


Across The Highs, The Lows, And The In-Betweens

by bri617



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bachelorette Auction, Best Friends, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Living Together, No island, Slow Burn, Tommy Merlyn is Alive, meeting on a plane
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-11
Updated: 2015-12-18
Packaged: 2018-04-08 17:32:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 38,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4314078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bri617/pseuds/bri617
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Huh, your current boss must be pretty shitty if you still decided to go to Gotham on your own dime,” he muses.</p><p>There's a mysterious smile forming on her lips. “His words, not mine.”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>She sighs and shrugs. “I work at Queen Consolidated. So, technically, you're my boss.”</p><p>Or the one where Oliver and Felicity meet on a plane for the first time while she's on her way to a job interview at Wayne Enterprises. Fast forward one year and Oliver finds himself completely and utterly in love with his new best friend, Felicity Smoak.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title borrowed from You+Me's song You and Me.

**⁂ ⁂ ⁂**

Three hours.

Three fucking hours.

He's going to fire his assistant.

Well, that and have a pointed talk with his sister for just taking the QC jet to Europe.

Really, it's all her fault. Had she not decided to go on that big graduation trip through Europe with her high school friends, he wouldn't even be in this situation.

'This situation' being wedged into the incredibly small middle seat of a commercial airplane's economy class.

Sure, his trip to Gotham had been incredibly short notice and he was grateful that he was able to make the trip at all. And sure, he probably could've asked Bruce to send his jet to Starling to pick him up, but there was no way he'd give that smug bastard the satisfaction of doing him a favor.

He stares longingly at the empty aisle seat before sinking into his own and closing his eyes. The flight will only take a few hours, he can totally survive that.

"You doing okay?" a voice rips him out of his musings and his eyes fly open.

A blonde woman stands in the aisle, piercing blue eyes flitting over him. Her head is slightly tilted to the side, her blonde hair falling over her shoulders in soft waves and there's a sparkle of amused concern in her eyes.

He swallows. Hard.

Damn, she's beautiful.

"Yes," he croaks out, mentally chastising himself for reacting like a teenager with a crush. He clears his throat, satisfied when his voice is steady and controlled when he speaks again. "Just trying to force my body to supply my lower extremities with enough blood."

Her eyes drift down to where his legs are neatly folded in the little space in front of him. She raises an amused eyebrow. "Ah," she huffs out and then gestures towards the aisle seat. "You can have my seat if you want. I don't have quite as much body mass as you do. Not that you're fat, you're obviously very much in shape." He watches as her eyes grow wide. "I wasn't checking you out or anything. That would be so incredibly inappropriate of me," she babbles on. "Just making an objective observation." She shakes her head at herself and continues, "Anyway, do you wanna switch seats? It should be at least a little more comfortable for you."

He looks between the seat and the woman in surprised wonder. "If you're sure?"

She shoots him a wide smile and steps back a little, jerking her head to the side, silently asking him to get up. He quickly unbuckles his seat belt and steps into the aisle, coming to a stop right in front of her.

He has to tilt his head down to look at her, and yeah, wow, she's even more beautiful from up close. Her make-up is kept down to a minimum, the only exuberance she seems to indulge in is her bright red lipstick.

"My legs and I thank you very much," he says, a grateful smile forming on his lips.

She just grins at him and plops down on the middle seat, while he maneuvers his body into his new seat, experimentally stretching his legs into the aisle. Yeah, that's a little bit better. Still not first class, but definitely an improvement.

He turns towards his savior and grins widely. "I'm Oliver, by the way," he offers and stretches out his hand.

There's that little head tilt again as she studies him for a second. "Felicity," she finally replies and slips her hand into his. The effect is instant: warmth and a little buzzing feeling spreading from his fingers through his entire body. Who the hell is this woman?

They fall into an easy conversation that lasts most of the flight, making fun of the little bags of pretzels that the flight attendants hand them, and earning more than one annoyed glance from the occupant of the window seat of their row when Oliver makes a joke and Felicity can't stop giggling for a solid five minutes.

He learns quite a few things about her in those few hours. She's an only child from Las Vegas who's lived in Starling City for six years ever since graduating from MIT in '09, working as a computer specialist. She's twenty-five years old and tends to babble. Oh, and she dyes her hair. That tidbit about herself just kind of slipped out and she fixed him with a serious look and threatened to hack into his phone and replace all of his data with sound files of porcupine farts if he tells anyone about it.

"So what brings you to Gotham if you don't mind me asking?"

Her lips twitch a little and she looks down. "I got invited to a job interview for a department head position at Wayne Enterprises."

He scoffs a little. "And they put you in an economy class seat to fly you out?" Cheap bastards.

She tilts her head to the side and nibbles on her bottom lip. "They did offer to send their jet, but I declined. I didn't want to feel obligated to something just because they did stuff for me, ya know?" she shrugs.

"Huh, your current boss must be pretty shitty if you still decided to go on your own dime," he muses.

There's a mysterious smile forming on her lips. "His words, not mine."

His eyebrows knit together in confusion.

What?

"What?" he asks out loud, feeling like he's missing something.

She sighs and shrugs. "I work at Queen Consolidated. So, technically, _you_ 're my boss."

Oh.

His mouth falls open in surprise. "You know who I am?"

An amused chuckle falls from her lips. "Like I said, I work at QC, so yeah, obviously I know who the CEO of the company is."

Right, that makes sense.

"Right," he says slowly, trying to sort through his jumbled thoughts. What are the odds of ending up sitting next to one of his employees who's going to have a job interview at Wayne Enterprises, the same company he's headed to to finalize a business deal.

He turns towards the blonde woman next to him to find out more about why she's thinking about leaving his company, but she's in an animated conversation with one of the flight attendants. He uses the time to log onto the plane's WiFi and to send a quick email to his assistant, asking her to somehow find Felicity's personnel file.

He quickly sifts through his brain, listing all the department heads in his company, but comes up empty. She's definitely not in a high-ranking position or otherwise he would've probably run across her before now. But what really bugs him is that Wayne Enterprises wants to snatch her away from QC. If there's one thing he knows for sure, it's that if WE wants Felicity to become the head of any of their departments, she's got to be good. Really, really good.

His phone vibrates with an incoming email and a quick glance at the screen tells him it's from his assistant. He chances a look at the blonde woman that has become even more of enigma to him in the last few minutes, satisfied to see that she's still talking to the flight attendant. That will give him a few minutes to read through her file.

His mouth falls open after the first paragraph. Holy shit, she _is_ good. Very good. She's worked for his company since '09; back then she'd been directly hired by Robert Queen himself. Interesting.

In her first two years alone she'd single-handedly rewritten the security protocols for QC's mainframe, fixed a gigantic hole in their firewall, thwarted a hacker attack, and developed the internal communication software that the company now uses in all of their domestic and international offices.

But then, during her third year at the company, her work had suddenly become more mundane, more or less reduced to doing day-to-day IT support within the Starling City office. None of her numerous project proposals had been approved by her superiors, limiting her evident genius to help other people find the power switch on their computers.

Oliver quickly does the math. Her third year would have been 2012, the year his father had died. It all makes sense now. Her recruitment, her incredible achievements, the sudden stilt to her career.

His father had been famous for finding the brightest young employees among the thousands of applicants each year, and for taking those select few under his wing, nurturing them towards making them QC's future leaders. Felicity must've been one of them, flourishing under Robert's guidance until his untimely death in 2012.

A warm hand on his arm rips him out of his thoughts. "Oliver?"

He looks up and meets her concerned blue eyes. "You doing okay? We're about to land."

Right. Land in Gotham. Where Bruce Wayne is trying to snatch what seems to be one of the brightest assets QC has to offer.

Oh hell, no!

"I'm good," he says, an idea forming in his head. "But I have a proposal for you."

 

**⁂ ⁂ ⁂ ARROW ⁂ ⁂ ⁂**

 

"No."

His face falls, and she tries very hard not to be affected by his stupid, pretty blue eyes that look so darn confused and disappointed at her resolute answer.

"Just hear me out," he says, more than a hint of pleading in his tone.

She sighs. "Didn't you hear what I said about me declining the whole private jet thing so I wouldn't feel obligated? You paying for my hotel room and taking me out to dinner fall into the same category."

He clenches his jaw. And wow, can he please not do that? Even with a light stubble covering his face, it just makes his Adonis jaw even more prominent.

"Fine, but let me at least treat you to dinner tonight."

"Oliver-"

"I want to convince you to stay at QC."

She narrows her eyes at him in suspicion. "Why do you care?"

"Because we need you." He makes it sound so simple when it's anything but.

"You read up on me." It's not a question, not when it's obvious that he somehow managed to find out more about her and her work at his company in the span of the last twenty minutes. She's not sure if she should be flattered or annoyed.

"I did," he nods his head. "And based on what your personnel file told me, you're one of the greatest assets we have and I'm not willing to let you go without a fight."

She huffs out a humorless laugh. "What if it's too late for that? What if I've already decided to leave your company?"

An annoyingly confident smile forms on his lips. "I don't think that's the case."

She takes a deep breath, ready to say no, but then his hand is on hers and she momentarily forgets how to think straight. "Give me a chance here, Felicity. I don't know why your supervisor stilted your career like he did after my dad died, or why you're still stuck in the same entry-level position despite your undeniable talent, but now that I've met you I'm not going to keep making the same mistakes. I'll get to the bottom of this and then make sure that my company treats you with the respect you deserve."

She swallows. Hard. What the hell are you supposed to say after the CEO of one of the biggest companies in the country says something like that while holding your hand?

He watches her with alert eyes, waiting for her to say something, _anything_. When she just stares at him with wide eyes, mouth opening and closing without any words coming out, his lips twitch into a half smile and he lets go of her hand. She ignores the cold chill that runs through her at the sudden loss of contact.

He reaches into the pocket of his coat and produces a business card and a fancy looking pen. With nimble fingers he scribbles something down on the little piece of paper and holds it out for her to take. "Tell you what, I'll stop badgering you about this for the time being if you give me a chance and let me treat you to dinner." He holds up his hand when she opens her mouth to protest. "Do your interview tomorrow, see what they've got to offer, and by the time we meet for dinner I'll have an offer of my own for you."

What's even happening right now?

"I honestly don't know what to say right now," she mutters, shaking her head disbelievingly.

"I'll take anything, as long as it's not a 'no'", Oliver says with that stupid, hopeful glint in his eyes.

She stares at him for a full minute until the plane touches down on the tarmac. Seriously, how the hell did she get to this point in her life? She'd been hand-picked by one of the greatest business men in the country to come work at QC. He'd lent her his support and guidance throughout those three years she'd known him. He'd put his unwavering trust in her, giving her challenging and high profile projects right from the get-go. And then, after he'd died, her asshole supervisor who'd been jealous of her that whole time, had made sure to give her the most boring work he could find.

Needless to say that she'd gotten pretty unhappy with her position in the company and doubts about staying with QC had started to creep in when she felt like she was going nowhere in her career. So when Wayne Enterprises had approached her about making her the new head of the IT department at their company headquarters in Gotham City, she'd been over the moon, flattered beyond believe that they'd even considered her for the position.

And now, she's sitting next to the freaking CEO of the same company that she's considering to leave, and he's more than willing to convince her to stay, dangling some sort of promotion right in front of her. Coincidence? Fate? The universe's weird sense of humor? Who knows.

The one thing she does know is that this opens up a whole new box of possibilities at QC. She'd very much like to stay at the company that started her career. So, maybe with Oliver finally taking notice of her existence and more importantly her talent, she has a chance to stay at QC and move her career forward.

So, yes, she'll hear him out and see what he has to say. If push comes to shove, she'll have a different job offer to fall back on (if the interview tomorrow goes well, that is).

"I hope you bring your A-game, Mr. Queen," she finally says with a challenging smile.

His lips spread into a wide grin as he steadily holds her gaze. "I always do, Ms. Smoak."

**⁂ ⁂ ⁂**


	2. Chapter 2

**⁂ ⁂ ⁂**

**1 year later**

He's sitting in his office, staring absentmindedly through the glass walls, past his secretary and right into the only other office on this floor.

Her ponytail is swinging just in time to her bare feet hitting the marble floor.

She does that a lot, he's come to notice over the past year. The pacing through her spacious office whenever she encounters a persistent problem. She just kicks off her impossibly high heels and walks aimlessly around her desk and the little sitting area, just mumbling to herself and completely immersed in her own little world of ones and zeroes (something he still doesn't understand all that much about, despite her countless attempts of explaining that stuff to him).

Oh, he doesn't regret putting her there. He never could.

Promoting her was most likely the best decision he's ever made as the CEO of his family's company.

Putting her up in his mother's old office had initially been a way of trying to show her how serious he'd been about showing her how much he and his company valued her. A move that had resulted in their first fight, which was also the first time he'd heard her use her loud voice. Boy, could she be scary.

So, no, he doesn't regret convincing her to take him up on his offer to become the new VP for Technology Solutions at QC, but sometimes he thinks that he has a slightly masochistic side for keeping her so close to him.

He sighs and runs a frustrated hand over his stubble. Yeah, his feelings for her are a whole can of worms that he has no intention of opening right now.

Right on cue, his best friend who takes a sick joy out of needling him about just those feelings comes marching into Oliver's office, a smug grin accompanied by an amused chuckle falling from his lips as he catches Oliver staring at their blonde friend in the neighboring office.

Tommy flops down on one of the chairs in front of Oliver's desk and looks at him expectantly.

Oliver grinds his teeth, annoyed that he'd been caught staring at Felicity... again. "What do you want, Tommy?"

The man in question leans back further and shrugs his shoulders. "A 'thank you, Tommy, you're the best friend I've ever had' would be enough."

Oliver narrows his eyes. "Fine, I'll bite. Why would I say that?"

His best friend grins cockily. "Well, a) because it's true and just a well-known fact." Oliver shoots him a glare, not in the mood for one of his friend's games, but he just ignores him and continues, "and b) because I managed to get a reservation at Freccia Verde tonight."

When Oliver just gives him a confused look, he rolls his eyes. "For your anniversary with Felicity," he points out like it's the most obvious answer ever.

Oliver stills for a moment, his fist clenching under the table.

His meddling best friend had struck again. How he even knows about their anniversary is completely beyond him. He certainly hadn't told him about it, knowing full well that he would've mercilessly been made fun of.

"Tommy," he almost growls, a warning edge to his tone. "How many times do I have to tell you not to put your nose where it doesn't belong?"

"Apparently, at least one more time," the dark haired man replies happily. "But come on, dude. This is great. A nice night out with your favorite girl, fantastic food and even better wine, romantic atmosphere. Maybe you'll finally man up and tell her how you feel."

Oliver decides not to comment on his best friend's remark when he sees Felicity leave her office and come straight towards his.

"Hey, Tommy," she greets their mutual friend happily and presses a quick kiss to his cheek. Tommy in turn wraps one arm around her shoulders and pulls her hip close to bump into his, shooting a challenging look towards Oliver, who has to quell the sudden urge to punch the shit of his life long friend.

"I hope you didn't come to steal Oliver away." The words are directed at Tommy, but her eyes are fixed on Oliver's, blue eyes sparkling with joy. "He's all mine tonight."

Or any other night, he adds in his head, while his heart does a somersault at the mere thought of how good that notion sounds.

"I wouldn't even think of it," Tommy assures her seriously, lifting his free hand defensively. "I actually just told Ollie that I managed to secure a table for the two of you at that new Italian restaurant for tonight."

"Oh, that sounds lovely," she replies and hip-checks him playfully. "Did you sleep with the hostess to pull that off?"

Tommy lets out a sharp, dramatic gasp and brings a hand up to his heart. "Felicity Meghan Smoak, I can't believe that you would think something so preposterous of me."

She just fixes him with a serious look and a raised eyebrow.

"Ugh, you just know me too well. But FYI, it was the mâitre d', and it was a long time ago, she just remembered how much I blew her mind that night," he huffs cockily out after a moment.

Felicity just shakes her head and laughs heartily. "You're incorrigible."

"Anyways, our plans tonight are the reason I came over," she starts. "Somehow one of the main computers at Applied Sciences got completely fried and they asked me to stop by and see how much data I can salvage. And since I just dropped my car off at the shop this morning I was hoping that my incredibly handsome and favorite best friend," she looks straight at Oliver and bats her eyes quickly, a hopeful smile on her lips, ignoring Tommy's indignant sounds of protest next to her. "Could possibly drop me off at the Applied Sciences building and then, while I check out the damage, pick up my dress for tonight from the dry cleaner that's just around the corner, so I can change quickly and we can head straight to the restaurant?"

Oliver smiles brightly at her just for being so utterly cute. "Of course I can do that. I'm all finished here, so just let me know when you want to leave."

"Great, I'll be ready in ten minutes," she says and turns around, stepping on her tip toes to press another kiss to Tommy cheek who happily leans down to accommodate her. "Thanks, for getting us that table, however questionable your ways are."

"It was my pleasure," he replies and waggles his eyebrows, earning himself a light slap to the chest from the departing blonde.

"Gross, Merlyn, there's things I don't want to know."

Oliver stares after her retreating form, his heart warming at the mere thought of their evening together, when he hears Tommy chuckle.

"Man, you're so whipped."

Oliver remains silent. He really can't argue with his best friend's assessment. Felicity Smoak has him completely wrapped around her little finger and he knows it.

 

**⁂ ⁂ ⁂ ARROW ⁂ ⁂ ⁂**

 

They don't have to wait to be seated when they get to the restaurant. Of course they don't. When Oliver Queen walks into a restaurant he gets shown to a table immediately, no matter if he has a reservation or not. It's something she still hasn't gotten used to, no matter how many times they've gone out to dinner together in this past year.

She looks over to where he's seated on the opposite side of the table, talking to a waiter about their order. It's one of the things they usually do when they go out for dinner: one of them gets to order their food, the other one orders drinks. She doesn't even remember when or how it started, but it's definitely one of the reasons Tommy likes to make fun of them and call her Mrs. Queen.

The conversation during dinner comes as easy as always, even though they spend most of their days separated only by forty feet of office space and two glass walls, and even though they usually end up taking their lunch break or at least a coffee break together, they never fail to have an easy conversation flowing when they also spend their nights together.

No, not like _that_. Because, yeah, that is not happening. At all.

And she will not let her mind drift to all the other possible ways of spending the night with Oliver in... less platonic ways. If she did, that would just open a whole big box of feelings that she stashed away a long time ago.

So, nope, not going there.

Her friendship with Oliver had come basically instantly. There had just been something so natural and easy about their chemistry right from the get go, that it was no wonder that they'd become friends so quickly.

 

**⁂**

**⁂ ⁂**

**⁂ ⁂ ⁂**

**1 year ago**

_They're in a really fancy restaurant, eating their way through the restaurant's special six course menu, that comes in teeny-tiny portions._

_Safe to say she's not very impressed so far._

_Nope, that's not true. She is very impressed by how good Oliver Queen looks in a suit. And at how smart he actually is. Yeah, sure, you'd hope that the CEO of one of the biggest companies in the States would be smart, but she didn't expect him to be able to keep up with some of her tech talk. There's one instance when she's talking about specs for a new software where she sees his eyebrows hike up and his eyes glaze over a little, but still, all in all he impresses her._

" _So when are you going to start talking business?" she asks curiously after the waiter clears their table after course number three._

_He smiles at her. "Just wanted to continue our nice conversation from yesterday."_

" _Uh huh, you know your infamous charm will get you nowhere with me, Mr. Queen."_

" _Oliver," he says for the tenth time during this dinner. "You can call me Mr. Queen in the office, but outside of it I'm just Oliver."_

" _Well, Just Oliver, are you or are you not going to talk business soon, because quite frankly the food that Bruce Wayne served me this afternoon was much better than this."_

_She knows she's walking a very thin line with being so challenging and upfront, but what does she have to lose? Bruce Wayne himself attended her job interview this morning and afterwards treated her to lunch to talk about more details for her potential new job, ending their time together with an official offer._

_She watches as Oliver's eyes light up with surprise. He definitely hadn't expected that._

_He quickly clears his throat. "Okay, I guess we can talk business if you want to," he says after a beat. "What's their offer?"_

_She huffs out a little laugh. "Like I'll tell you that."_

_He considers her words for a moment. "I figured you wouldn't spill the beans. So here's what I think," he starts and takes a breath. "Like I said before, I think that letting you go, especially to a direct competitor, would be the biggest mistake that I could possibly make. I think you're an incredible and irreplaceable asset for my company and I fired the asshole that's been keeping you back for the last few years." He smirks when she lets out a surprised gasp. "So here's what I've got to offer you: my company would like to appoint you as the new Vice President of Technology Solutions. You'll be granted a generous budget to fund some of your project proposals, all under your supervision. You'll have a company car, a personal assistant, and we'll quadruple your salary, plus bonuses."_

_She gapes at him, with her mouth hanging wide open._

" _You can't just decide something like that," she finally stutters._

_He smiles indulgently at her. "Me alone? No, I couldn't. I spent the whole day talking to our board members and called a Skype board meeting so we could have a vote on the matter. They unanimously agreed with me."_

" _What?" she almost screeches._

" _I presented your case and_ t _hey all believe in your talent and your value to the company just as much as I do," he says earnestly._

_She just stares at him for a full minute, trying to compute the offer he just put on the table for her. And holy shit, what an offer._

_His smile widens a little more. "You don't have to decide right away. Take some time and think about it. Just know that Queen Consolidated and I are fully invested in trying to keep you close to us."_

_Maybe it's the passion in his voice or his stupid pretty eyes that look at her so full of hope. Maybe it's just her brain making the logical decision and her heart agreeing for once._

" _Okay," she whispers._

_He nods his head and raises his wine glass. "I'm glad you're considering it."_

_She shakes her head jerkily. "No, I mean, okay to your offer."_

_His eyes widen and his smile falters for a second before he lets out a disbelieving chuckle. "You're saying yes?"_

" _Yes," she replies and the change in his demeanor is palpable._

_His whole posture relaxes and a full blown, genuine smile spreads on his lips, the little worried line that was present all night disappears, happiness practically seeping out of his every pore._

_Seeing him this happy makes her feel all gooey inside and she's not sure what to do with that feeling._

" _I'm very glad to hear that. So, now, how about we ditch this place, go to Big Belly Burger and have an actual dinner?"_

_Her eyes light up at the mention of her favorite fast food restaurant. "You know, Mr. Queen, I think this may be the beginning of a wonderful friendship," she jokes with a goofy smile that he answers in kind without hesitation._

" _I think you're absolutely right, Ms. Smoak."_

**⁂ ⁂ ⁂**

**⁂ ⁂**

**⁂**

 

"Felicity?" Oliver's soft voice interrupts her thoughts. "Did you hear what I just said?"

"No, I'm sorry, I must've spaced out," she apologizes quickly.

"Where did you go just now?"

She smiles sheepishly at him. "Just had to think of our first dinner together, back in Gotham."

A wide smile erupts on his lips. "A good memory, I hope."

"The best," the words tumble out of her mouth before she can stop them, but it's well worth it when she sees the full-blown smile on Oliver's incredibly handsome face.

"I'm glad you think so, too," he says and winks at her, taking away any awkwardness.

She rolls her eyes playfully. "So what were you saying when I spaced out?"

If she didn't know him so well, she probably would've missed the nervous spark in his intense blue eyes, but she does know him that well, and something is making him nervous.

"I just asked if you wanted to skip dessert and grab some ice cream instead and drive up to Avalon Park to watch the sunset," he suggests cautiously.

Her eyebrows draw together as she tries to figure out why telling her about his idea would make him nervous. "Uh, yeah, sure, we can go up there. Is there anything special happening tonight? The last time we did that was for my birthday."

He fiddles with his fingers on the table. "Just wanna talk to you... about some things."

"We talk all the time, what's so special about tonight?"

She can tell that he's getting frustrated by the way he clenches his jaw and lets out a sigh. But what is she supposed to do? She hates mysteries, and him being so cryptic is weird and atypical.

"Felicity," he sighs and runs a hand over his scruff. "It's just... something important."

Important? Hmm...

It's highly unlikely that it has anything to do with their jobs, since she's usually the one to hear about new business developments before he does, so it must be something personal.

She wracks her brain, thinking back on the conversations she's had with Thea in the past few weeks, trying to remember if she said that anything was happening in their family, but she comes up empty.

So it must be...

She swallows hard. "Like what? Are you gonna tell me that you have a girlfriend?" She hopes she covers the dread she's feeling deep down in the pit of her stomach at that thought with enough fake cheer, but she can't keep her face from falling when he doesn't answer right away.

"Oh," she breathes out, surprise probably written all over her face. "You do?"

He looks at her with wide eyes, and slowly shakes his head. "No, I mean... Yeah, no, I don't have a girlfriend."

"But there _is_ someone," she presses cautiously.

She watches as his Adam's apple bops up and down as he swallows. "Yeah, there's... someone."

Oh, wow. She _so_ did not expect that.

It's not like she thinks that Oliver has lived like a monk this past year. There's hope, yes, but in reality she's faced with the fact that he's a successful, handsome business man in his absolute prime. She's witnessed women practically falling over backwards in an attempt to catch his attention. And of course there are also the infamous tales of his younger years that were apparently spent with an abundance of different women, partying all over the world.

But despite everything she'd heard before meeting him, over the course of the last year, she'd never been aware of him dating anyone, at least not seriously enough for him to share that relationship with either her or Tommy. Or maybe Tommy already knows about that 'someone'. Huh, she'll have to have a talk with him.

Before she can go any further down that rabbit hole, she hears her phone vibrating in her purse. Happy about a moment to gather herself she excuses herself from the table and picks up the phone.

She kinda wishes she hadn't.

The next few minutes are a whirlwind of information that she only catches fragments of.

Her block. Gas line explosion. Fire. Her house. Burnt to the ground. Three dead and countless injured in her neighborhood.

The feeling of losing the ground under her feet sweeps through her body. If not for Oliver's strong arms and his sudden warmth engulfing her, she's sure she would've hit the ground.

 

**⁂ ⁂ ⁂**

 

An hour later she stands in front of the barely there ruin that once was her house. Her neighborhood looks like a war zone, smoke still climbing up to the darkening night sky, debris lying on the street, people screaming and crying everywhere around her. Nobody has answers, just a million questions.

She feels completely numb, letting her gaze drift over the rubble. Her home was completely destroyed. The fire department had informed her that at their first walk through they hadn't seen anything salvageable. The promise of going through it again in the morning doesn't take away from the sudden sensation of loss.

No, unlike a few of her neighbors she hasn't lost a loved one, and in the end all she's lost is stuff, but it was still _her stuff_. Her photos and her life that she's built here.

The familiar shape of Oliver's suit clad frame moves into her line of sight. His hands come up to cup her face and force her to look up. She almost has to look away from his intense gaze. There's no pity in his eyes, just genuine and heartfelt compassion and a promise of something.

"You can stay at my place for as long as you want. Anything you need, I'll be there for you, okay?"

She just nods mutely as tears finally start streaking down her cheeks, gratefulness and so much love for this man spreading through her body as he wraps his arms securely around her shivering frame, pulling her into the cocoon of his safety.

**⁂ ⁂ ⁂**


	3. Chapter 3

**⁂ ⁂ ⁂**

Oliver quickly rummages through his closet, finally coming up with a t-shirt and some shorts, before he reenters his bedroom with long strides, making a beeline towards Felicity.

She's exactly where he left her a couple of minutes ago: sitting unmovingly on the edge of his bed, hands clasped together in her lap, her eyes fixed on a spot somewhere on his bedroom floor.

She's been like this for the past hour, ever since leaving the remains of her house behind and getting into his car. He'd hoped that getting her away from there, away from all the chaos and destruction, would help calm her down. Even though 'calm down' isn't quite the right word. She already _is_ calm. Eerily so. She'd barely said two words since he ushered her into his car. She'd just gone along with whatever he told her to do to get her up to his apartment.

If he's learned anything about this woman in the past year, it's that a silent Felicity is a scary Felicity. On occasion, she's used the silent treatment on him after he fucked up one way or another, but those times he always knew how to get back in her good graces, worming his way through the thick, silent walls she puts up. But this? He can deal with her silence if he's the reason for it, but this time he has no idea how to make things better for her. How he can get his girl back.

He comes to a stop in front of her, cautiously placing his clothes on the bed next to her. He reaches out a hand, slowly grasping her fingers.

"Felicity?" he asks softly.

She slowly lifts her head, tears brimming in her eyes, tearing off another little piece of his heart. "Come here," he chokes out and pulls her off the bed and right into his arms.

It takes her only a split second to wrap her arms around his waist and back, pressing her tiny body into his with a force that is on the edge of actually hurting him. But Oliver doesn't give a fuck, because this is Felicity and he'd endure any kind of pain for her. Her small frame is wracked by sobs and shuddering breaths as she finally lets her walls crumble.

Oliver presses his face into her hair, his back and neck are bent at awkward angles, but she's just so freaking small and he just wants to hold her close and give her all the comfort he has to give.

It's countless minutes later when his back's protests finally get too intense to ignore. He lifts Felicity off the ground and turns them around, before sinking to the ground without letting go of her for even a second. There's some awkward repositioning before they're both comfortable, and then Felicity's voice finally breaks the silence.

"It's all gone," she whispers disbelievingly. "Everything is just _gone_."

"I know," he says with a deep sigh as he frames her face with his large hands, forcing her to look up. "But the important thing is that _you_ weren't home, that you're still around to take more pictures and build more computers and make new memories."

Another tear rolls down her cheek and he quickly wipes it away with the pad of his thumb. "You're still here and you're safe," he whispers, not sure who he's trying to reassure.

She gives him a shaky smile and turns her head and presses a kiss into the palm of his hand. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

He swallows hard against the emotions threatening to spill out and pulls her closer into his body instead. "No," he mumbles into her hair, "I don't know what I'd do without _you._ "

And it's true. Just the mere thought of losing her in any way, imaging a life without Felicity Smoak in it, is more terrifying than anything else. Somehow, in just one short year, this woman has managed to become his rock, his confidante, his best friend, and the love of his life.

 

**⁂ ⁂ ⁂**

 

When they finally manage to get up from the floor, and she comes out of his bathroom wearing his large t-shirt, she heads straight for his bed. She doesn't have to ask, he doesn't have to offer. By some unspoken agreement, he strips down to his boxer briefs and slips under the covers, while she scoots closer, decimating the space between them, wiggling a little bit until she's comfortable with her cheek pressed to his chest, right over his heart.

He closes his eyes when he hears her shaky exhale, and shivers slightly at the sensation of her hot breath ghosting over his skin. Deep down, he knows that this is torture. Having her pressed into his body, her arms wrapped around him, just like he's dreamed so many times. He knows that it will wreck him, make things so much harder, to know what it feels like to go to sleep with her in his arms and wake up with her tomorrow morning, and then just go back to business as usual. And yet, he can't deny her (or himself, for that matter) this moment of intimate closeness.

 

 **⁂ ⁂ ⁂ ARROW** **⁂ ⁂ ⁂**

 

She comes to with a start, her eyes flying open, a sharp inhale of air rocking her body.

Fire.

Her head whips around, searching her surroundings, only to smack right into something solid and yet soft. It takes her an embarrassingly long time to realize that her lips are pressed into Oliver's chest, her rapid breaths ghosting over his skin.

"You okay?" he asks quietly and she can actually feel his voice rumbling through his chest.

She takes a deep breath and finally shakes her head in disbelief, her nose brushing over his soft skin. "I can't believe that this happened to me. It's so surreal to think that my home and everything is just gone."

Only then she realizes that one of his hands is tracing long lines up and down her spine. The fabric of her, no, _his_ shirt doing absolutely nothing to protect her from the heat emitting from his fingers, seeping into her body and spreading like a wild fire.

Shit, she has to move.

Now, she tells her body. But all it does is give her the proverbial middle finger by melting even further into her best friend's body.

Great job.

His lips land on her temple, brushing a soft kiss against it and she's sure it's meant to be a reassuring gesture, but all it does to her is stoke the fire that is simmering low in her belly. She has to summon all her strength to keep the satisfied sigh from falling from her lips.

"I got you," he murmurs softly.

She believes him.

It's her phone ringing on the bedside table that snaps them out of their moment and she scrambles away from Oliver's all encompassing warmth to reach the offending object.

She can't even say 'hello' before Caitlin's voice rings through the speaker. "Please tell me you're okay."

"I'm fine," Felicity quickly assures her friend. "Can't say the same thing for my house," she adds sadly.

She can hear Caitlin's relieved sigh on the other end and the "Oh my God, I'm so glad" that swiftly follows.

"I was going to stop by your place to see if you were up for breakfast when I was stopped by some firemen at the beginning of your street. They told me about the explosion and I was so scared that something had happened to you," she lets out in a rush.

"I'm okay, Cait. I wasn't even there when it happened, I was out with Oliver last night."

"Thank God," her friend breathes out. "Are you still with him?"

Try as she may, Felicity can't help the color from creeping up her cheeks, even though she knows that Caitlin didn't mean it _that_ way.

"Yeah, I'm at his place."

"Good, he'll take care of you. Is there anything I can do?"

"I don't even know right now," Felicity admits and releases a defeated breath. "When I manage to sort through everything in my head you'll be the first to know."

"Alright, stay positive, Lis, and let me know if I can do anything. Love you."

"Love you, too, Cait, and thank you!" Felicity says gratefully and hangs up.

She lets her body sink back against the pillow that is propped up against the headboard, closing her eyes, trying to escape the images from last night. The smoke in the air, the fire, people crying in each other's arms.

"How's Cait?" Oliver asks quietly.

"Good, she wanted to come by my place this morning and saw that something happened and was worried."

Oliver nods slowly. "Do you, uh, wanna grab a shower while I scramble up some breakfast?" he asks while rolling out of bed and rounding it before he comes to a stop in front of her.

She gives him a small smile. "Yeah, I could do with some pancakes."

The corners of his lips curl up into what has to be her favorite smile. It's not a full blown one, but there's so many different emotions shining from his eyes, the same emotions he always carefully hides from the outside world. It makes her feel so special when he lets her see past all the walls and straight into his heart and soul.

A realization dawns on her then. "But I don't have any clothes," she points out dejectedly, the gravity of her situation hitting her like a brick wall. She stares down into her lap and starts fiddling with the hem of the shirt she's wearing. "As much as I like your t-shirt, I don't think I can pull off this look in a more public setting."

When he doesn't reply immediately she looks up, but instead of meeting her questioning gaze his eyes are following the fabric of his shirt on her down to where it ends on her thighs. There's something hard and almost possessive in his blue eyes that suddenly look much darker than usual. Before she can even begin to analyze his reaction, his eyes snap up to hers and the look is gone, replaced by a sheepish glint.

"I really hope you won't be mad at me for this," he says while stepping closer, holding out his hands for her to take.

Why would she be mad?

She looks at him in confusion but still places her hands in his, letting him pull her up from the bed. When she stands in front of him he opens his mouth to say something, but then thinks better of it and just tugs her along, out of his room and into the guest room opposite of his.

She's crashed in that room countless times after movie nights, too much red wine, or simply being too lazy to drive home, but today it definitely looks different.

In front of the bed are two clothes racks filled to the brim with dresses, blouses and skirts in all imaginable colors. On the bed are stacks of neatly folded pants and uhm... underwear?

"Oliver," she begins carefully, fighting very unsuccessfully to hide the blush that is creeping up her cheeks at the sight of the various undergarments. "What is all this?"

Oliver clears his throat and looks at her nervously. "I called Mathieu, Thea's personal shopper, last night and had him put this together. I hope I'm not overstepping."

He does that nervous tick where he rubs his thumb and middle finger together, looking at her with a mixture of nervousness and giddiness.

"So all of this is for me?" she asks to clarify the situation, not quite sure what to make of it yet.

"Yeah," Oliver breathes out and pulls her closer towards the racks. "You can keep it all or look through it and decide what you want and we'll give back the rest."

She lets her free hand slide over the countless dresses and sucks in a breath. "Oliver, these are all designer dresses. They must've cost a fortune. I can't accept this."

Oliver's insistent tug on her hand is all it takes for her to turn her back to the rack. "Yes, you can accept this. And I don't care how much it cost, as long as you have one less thing to worry about. Let me do this to help you, please."

Felicity sighs and shakes her head. "You already let me stay here last night, which reminds me that I need to book a hotel. That's more than I could've ever asked of you."

As soon as the words leave her mouth she knows that he's going to fight her on this if his frown is anything to go by. Just as he opens his mouth, another voice chimes from the door.

"Smoaky, you can always stay at my place if this guy is getting on your nerves," Tommy says with a knowing grin as he eats up the distance between the doorway and where they're standing, and sweeps Felicity up in a tight hug.

She relaxes immediately in his arms and lets go of Oliver's hand to wrap her arms around Tommy's back. "Thank you," she mumbles into his sweater.

"Tommy," Oliver greets his best friend, even though there's a tension in his voice that wasn't there before.

"Oliver," Tommy mimics him and makes Felicity chuckle softly at his antics.

"She's gonna stay here with me," he grinds out.

She steps out of the embrace and is about to give him an earful when Tommy beats her to the punch.

"I think she should know that she has an option that isn't you," he challenges.

"Okay, both of you, _she_ is standing right here and will make her own decision, so stop acting like cavemen," she chides, annoyed that she seems to have this discussion with Oliver about others making decisions for her over and over again. He of all people should know how much it irks her.

 

**⁂**

**⁂ ⁂**

**⁂ ⁂ ⁂**

**Roughly one year ago**

_She's not sure what she expected to happen on her first day back after her trip to Gotham and the subsequent promotion to Vice President, but being intercepted at the security check by a guy named Gerry only to be led to the executive elevator and brought up to the top floor of the building definitely wasn't on the list._

_She's never actually been on this floor before today. Sad, really, if you think about it. But nevertheless true._

_From the elevator Gerry leads her towards the end of the hall that houses a desk. They take a sharp left turn and enter one of two very spacious offices on the floor. She looks around in awe. Taking in the dark marble floor, the sleek desk and sitting area, the floor length windows on two sides and glass walls on the other two. And then her eyes zero in on the name plate on the desk._

Felicity Smoak  
Vice President

_Holy shit._

_Her head whips around to face Gerry who's smiling at her cheerfully. Clearly he'll be of absolutely no help in clearing this up._

_She takes a deep breath, swallowing most of her hysteria. "Where would I find Mr. Queen?"_

_Gerry stretches out a hand towards the open glass door. "Right across the hall, Ms. Smoak. Shall I check if he has time for you?"_

_She gapes at him for a moment. Of course! They're on the freaking top floor of QC's headquarter, of course the CEO would have his office up here. And so does she, apparently._

_She shakes herself out of her stupor and storms past Gerry, across the hall and straight into Oliver's office._

" _What the hell do you think you're doing?" she demands, trying to catch her breath. Do they have to make executive offices so darn big? She'll have to go back to the gym if this is her life from now on._

_He looks up from his computer, a confused frown on his face. "Checking emails?" he says carefully._

" _No, I mean giving me an office on this floor!"_

" _Uh, you're_ **welcome** _?" he shoots back, confusion turning into irritation._

" _Welcome?_ Welcome _?" She asks disbelievingly, placing both hands firmly on his desk and leaning forward, glaring down at him. "Like the sudden promotion from the IT dungeon to Vice President isn't enough, you're giving me an office on your floor? Do you have any idea what everybody is going to say about how I got that promotion and what exactly it is we're doing up here? Or rather what I'll be doing for you… while I'm on my hands and knees. To them I'll be nothing more than Vice President of Debauchery and Temptation, and_ **your** _newest plaything."_

_He stands up so quickly that she doesn't even have time to flinch when his chair hits the wall behind him or when he slams down his hands on the desk, mimicking her stance on his side of the table. "That's enough," he growls at her, eyes ablaze with barely contained anger. "You'd do well to remember that, promotion or not, I'm still your boss and you will address me with the respect I deserve, Ms. Smoak."_

_Shit._

_He really has a point there._

_She keeps glaring at him, trying to come up with a response. She comes up empty._

" _Where the hell did you find this firecracker?" A smug voice comes from behind her._

" _Fuck off, Tommy," Oliver barks without even averting his eyes from hers._

_She holds his intense gaze for a few more seconds before curiosity wins and she turns around. Leaning against the door frame is none other than Tommy Merlyn if her memory of the tabloids in her hair salon serves her right._

" _Woah, and she looks like a bombshell, too. Seriously, man, where did you find her and does she have a sister? Preferably an identical twin?" Despite the lewd words, she can hear the amusement and challenge in his voice. He stalks over to her and holds out his hand. "But seriously, hi, I'm Tommy. I'm this knucklehead's best friend, so if you ever need embarrassing stories about him, just call me," he says and produces a business card out of thin air in his left hand._

_She shakes his hand and warily takes the business card from him, not quite able to process the ridiculousness of the situation._

_He leans closer to her and fake whispers, "You can call me any time, though. Coffee, dinner, booty call, I'm all yours."_

" _Get out, Tommy," Oliver grumbles._

_Tommy gives her one last cheeky grin and winks at her before stepping away, leaving them in an awkward silence._

" _I'm sorry," they blurt out at the same time._

" _May I?" she asks and he motions for her to go on. "I'm sorry for speaking to you in that manner, Mr. Queen. It was unprofessional and I was completely out of line. I apologize."_

_He nods slowly. "Can I ask if it's really just the office that is bothering you or if there's something else going on?"_

_She breathes out a sigh, angry tension leaving her body. "It's just," she fumbles for the right words. "It surprised me, I guess."_

" _And?" he prompts gently, motioning for her to sit down._

_She hesitates for a second, trying to sort through the jumbled mess that is her mind right now. There's something about the way he looks at her, his blue eyes intense and tinged with honest curiosity, that makes her continue._

" _And…over the weekend I finally had some time to think about everything that happened in Gotham and what that means for my future." Once again she fumbles for words. "I mean this is huge. Being a VP at just 25 in one of the biggest companies in the country is amazing and unbelievable and just a dream come true. And I'm so grateful for being given the opportunity to do what I love and for you putting your trust in me," she rushes out, feeling the hysteria from before seep back into her body._

" _Breathe, Felicity," Oliver tells her softly, and just the way her name falls from his lips in an almost whisper is enough to calm her down._

_She swallows before she finds her voice again. "But it's also overwhelming and I'm scared that I'll screw up somehow and disappoint you and the trust you have in my abilities. Which is ridiculous,  really. You only know me on paper and that got me thinking if maybe your decision to promote me was just a knee jerk reaction to Wayne Enterprises trying to snatch me away."_

_He tilts his head a little bit and regards her intently. "In a way it was, I guess," he admits, catching her off guard._

" _Really?"_

" _Yeah, I mean, until I met you on that plane I didn't even know you worked here, let alone what a genius you are. And it's also true that I don't like Wayne poaching anybody from my company, but the reason I offered you that promotion is solely based on your talents and your value to this company."_

_She blushes at that. How can she not? Here she is mid-freak out, being talked down and complimented by none other than Oliver Queen himself._

" _I'd like to think that I have some pretty decent insight into human nature. Reading people and forming quick opinions about them is part of my job. I need to know what kind of a person I'm dealing with before I can make a decision whether I wanna go into business with them or not," he continues calmly. "When I met you I saw and_ experienced _kindness and… happiness. There's just something about you."_

_By the way he bows his head for a second and closes his eyes, she knows that he didn't mean for that last part to slip out. She decides to let it slide for now._

_He takes a deep breath. "Point is you deserve to be here and I don't expect you to do everything perfectly from the get-go. Leadership positions like this aren't ones that you can read up on and perfect within seconds. It takes time and patience to do this work right and you will make mistakes. Lord knows I've made a few. But you just have to keep going and learn from those mistakes. That's what will make you a good leader."_

_She processes his words, letting them sink in. She hopes that he's right, that at some point she'll feel comfortable in this position and not like she's intruding on the big boys club._

" _Thank you, Mr. Queen, I really appreciate your advice and the encouragement," she says finally, meaning every word._

" _I'm glad to help in any way I can. Now about the office. I read in your file that during the time you were under my father's guidance, you had access to a workshop of sorts with separate servers and some computer stuff I didn't understand one word of. I though that you could turn the conference room adjacent to your office into your own workshop, equip it with everything you might need, so you can have everything in one place without having to travel down to the IT department every time you have an idea."_

_Wow. She tries really hard not to gape at him, but fails spectacularly._

_She hadn't thought that her morning could possibly become any more surreal and then Oliver Queen had struck again. Having access to that workshop had been one of the many perks of being one of Robert Queen's 'chosen ones'. She'd spent countless hours in that room. Writing code and tinkering with hardware had been her favorite past times. In the workshop she'd been able to let her ideas flow freely, try out whatever she wanted and not have to worry about the prying eyes of her supervisor or co-workers._

" _I don't know what to say," she stammers out in response. "It's still your mother's old office. Those are really big and presumably high-heeled shoes to fill."_

_He smiles at her widely. "Nobody's asking you to replace her. Like, seriously, don't even try to do that. Ever since I took over the company she was more like a stern and disapproving babysitter that criticized every move I made."_

_Felicity huffs out a chuckle. "Sounds like a handful."_

" _You have no idea. She kept ties in her desk. When she didn't like the tie I was wearing she'd make me put on one of those."_

_She can't contain the disbelieving laugh that escapes her mouth at the thought of her boss being chided by his mother for his choice of wardrobe and being forced to switch ties._

_His answering smile is breathtaking but it's only there for a few seconds before his face sobers and his features take on a more serious look. "I'm sorry for just springing this on you, though. I should've talked to you about it instead of presenting you with a fait accompli. I'll try to be better in the future."_

_She smiles gratefully at him. "I appreciate that a lot."_

" _Mr. Queen, you have a meeting in five minutes," sounds a woman's voice from the entrance._

" _Thanks, Martha. I'm almost finished here," Oliver replies curtly and turns his attention back to Felicity. "You can make a list of things you'd like for your office and of the specifications for your work shop and give it to your assistant. He'll get you anything you need."_

" _My assistant?" Yup, that's a phrase she never thought she'd say._

" _Yeah, Gerry. The guy that brought you up here?"_

" _He's_ my _assistant?"_

" _Believe me, you'll need him," Oliver assures her with a wink. "I'd be lost without Martha."_

" _Right," she says slowly, still unable to wrap her head around the fact that she has an assistant. What is even happening right now? She clears her throat and gets up then. "Well, I'll let you get to your meeting then. Thank you for everything, and again, I'm very sorry for talking to you like I did earlier."_

_He gets up, too, automatically buttoning his jacket as he stands, looking as dashing as ever. "Well, we could explore our new-found peace at Big Belly Burger at lunch if you'd like to join me? You could tell me about any ideas you have."_

" _That sounds good. How about I'll have my assistant call your assistant to see what time works best. Oh my god, I can't believe I just said that."_

_He beams at her. "Sounds perfect to me."_

_She turns to leave and makes it all the way to the door before Oliver calls out her name. "Don't worry about any rumors. Anyone with half a brain should be able to see that you've earned the right to be here and I won't have anyone doubt you."_

**⁂ ⁂ ⁂**

**⁂ ⁂**

**⁂**

 

From that day on every fight they've had, big or small, had always made them stronger. Had solidified their friendship and the bond that they have.

"Can you please give us a minute, Tommy?" It's Oliver's voice that breaks her out of her thoughts.

She sees Tommy nod and leave the room after a quick glance at her to make sure she's okay.

"I'm sorry," Oliver says quietly as soon as his best friend has left. "I know you hate it when someone else makes a decision on your behalf. I was reacting without thinking and I'm sorry for that."

She can tell that he's holding something back. His eyes are flitting around and he's doing that nervous tic with his fingers again. So she does the one thing that she knows will make him relax. She steps up to him, completely disregarding his personal space and wrapping her arms around him, pulling herself flush against his body.

It does the trick. It always does. His body relaxes as his hands automatically find her back and pull her just a little bit closer.

Somehow they've always been very physical in their friendship. The simple touch of a hand, the gentle squeeze of fingers, a warm hug. In a way, she feels like even the simplest touch from him is grounding her, helping her take a breath and relax. Apparently, she has the same effect on him.

"I know it's selfish," he mutters into her hair. "But I need you close. I need to know that you're okay. Just thinking about what could've happened to you if you'd been home is so incredibly terrifying."

Her heart melts a little at his admission. It's not that she doesn't want to be here with him, it's just that she knows she'll fall even harder for him if she stays so close to him. How will she ever be able to leave when she already feels like there's nothing better in this world than waking up next to him in the morning?

"This is the only way I know how to help you right now," he mumbles, flexing his fingers against her spine. "Please, Felicity," he pleads with her, so many emotions in his voice that it's almost too much to handle.

"Okay," she says, because honestly, what else is she supposed to say to him? She just hopes that her heart can take the hit.

**⁂ ⁂ ⁂**


	4. Chapter 4

**⁂** **⁂** **⁂**

He’s happy.

One week into their new living arrangement and he’s deliriously happy.

Well, technically he was already happy after the first morning and their mini fight were behind them, but who’s going to dwell on the details?

He’s happy and from the wide smile on Felicity’s face he surmises that she’s also happy. And that right there is what counts.

If there’s one person in the world that should be happy, it’s Felicity. Especially after her life was turned upside down a week ago.

As bad as the destruction of her house and all her worldly belongings is, there’s a tiny part of Oliver that doesn’t feel all that bad about it because it brought her to this point: sharing his apartment and his everyday life with him.

He looks up from the griddle in front of him to meet her gaze, her blue eyes shining with mirth. “Nuh-uh,” she chides him playfully. “Eyes on the price, mister. We wouldn’t want to repeat the big burned pancake and bacon incident of last week, would we?”

“That was one time. One time!” he exclaims defensively, pointing the spatula at her. “And you distracted me.”

“I was just texting you,” she says, looking at him, a perfect picture of innocence.

“While I was standing right in front of you,” he whines. “And you didn’t just text me, you completely flooded my inbox with cat videos.”

“And we all know Oliver Queen can’t resist looking at a bunch of pussies,” Tommy sasses from the elevator.

“Tommy!” they exclaim at the same time in equal parts horror and surprise.

He steps closer towards the open kitchen, his hands held up defensively in front of him. “Alright, alright. I’ll rephrase. The old Oliver Queen couldn’t have resisted, but now he’s all tame and… domesticated,” he says with mock disgust, waving a hand at the scene in front of him. “Tell me, Smoaky, where do you hide the whip in those flimsy pajamas of yours?”

Okay, her pajamas are _not_ that flimsy, Oliver thinks as he looks at her. She’s wearing shorts and a tank top, both of which are covering way too much skin for his taste. Ah, nope, not going there!

He watches as she just smirks at their mutual best friend, accepting his kiss to her cheek, before answering, “Probably in the same place that Laurel keeps hers for you.”

“Ohh,” Oliver exclaims and leans over far enough to exchange a high five with her. “She got you good on that one.”

Tommy just grumbles in response, plopping down on the bar stool next to her and taking a sip from her coffee mug, prompting Felicity to glare at him before getting up and rounding the kitchen island to get another one.

“Anyway, the reason I’m here is that Laurel and I were thinking of having a game night with you guys and maybe invite Caitlin and Barry, and Thea and her boy toy.”

Oliver groans in response. “Please don’t call him that. It makes it sound like they’re… doing stuff.”

Felicity’s soft hand lands on his shoulder, her thumb automatically rubbing soothing circles into the fabric of his shirt and the muscles beneath it. “Hate to break it to you, but she’s nineteen and dating a guy from the Glades. They’re definitely having sex.”

His head whips around to meet her gaze. Her eyes are soft and honest and probably a stark contrast to the horror in his own. “Don’t say stuff like that. I don’t even wanna know. She’s my baby sister and for all I know she’ll never touch a man until the day she dies,” he whines in protest.

“Whatever lets you sleep at night,” she replies with a wink and a soft pat to his cheek.

“How would you even know that?” Tommy asks when she sits back down on her bar stool, while Oliver is still trying to shake off the tingly feeling Felicity’s fingers left on his skin. “Do you girls meet for brunch and discuss your sex lives over mimosas, Sex and the City style?”

When his joking question is met by silence for too long, Oliver’s head whips up, only to see Felicity hiding behind her coffee mug, a tell-tale blush creeping up her cheeks.

“You do?” Tommy chokes out in disbelief. “No way! Wait, is Laurel part of this?”

“Yeah, I mean that’s what women do, right? It's just a sounding board for problems and questions for everything bedroom related that you can’t talk about with anyone else,” she mumbles into her mug.

“Well, I don’t know, how about talking to your respective boyfriends?” Tommy asks, and if Oliver didn’t know any better he’d think that there was a bit of hysteria in his best friend’s voice.

“Well, yes, technically, but we also talk about one night stands and crushes and stuff like that,” she says with a shrug, pointedly looking at her empty plate.

A silence engulfs the three for a minute, everybody digesting this new information, while Oliver diligently flips the pancakes and bacon, because there is no way in hell that he’s even remotely thinking about whatever Felicity would talk about during those gatherings.

She mentioned one night stands. Is she having one night stands? She’s not really the type for those, he thinks, preferring relationships over a quick roll in the sack, but maybe she’s changed her mind. Fuck, she might be having one night stands.

“Okay, what’s Laurel saying about me?” Tommy bursts out suddenly.

Felicity chuckles and hides behind her mug again. “I won’t tell you that.”

“Wait, so it’s bad? I mean if you don’t want to tell your best friend, then it’s got to be bad, right? Oh god, she thinks I’m a bad lover,” Tommy exclaims in horror, and this time Oliver is sure that he hears hysteria in his voice.

Felicity just shakes her head with a smile. “Relax, Merlyn, she’s very satisfied by your lover skills.” The man in question sighs in relief and puts on a cocky grin. She hesitates for a split second before adding, “Listening to her, I just think you wouldn’t be my type.”

The cocky grin vanishes from his face in an instant. “Why the hell not?” he demands in a serious tone.

“Just a feeling,” she shrugs again. “Call it a woman’s intuition.”

“I kinda take offense to that. I’m an excellent lover.”

“Says the man who just almost had a heart attack when he thought his girlfriend didn’t share that opinion,” Felicity points out.

“Touché, Smoaky, but I’ll have you know that you’d still get your money’s worth with me,” he says with a flirty wink.

“Ew, Merlyn, you’re my best friend and more like a big brother. I won’t even entertain the thought of spending the night with you,” she grimaces and shakes her head. “So disgusting.”

Oliver chuckles along good-heartedly with his two best friends, but on the inside he can feel his body tighten with dismay and doubt. Is that how she sees him, too? As a big brother type who she’d never want to be with romantically? He’s not a complete idiot when it comes to his relationship with Felicity and one thing he knows for sure is that they’ve always had a boatload of sexual tension looming between them. From day one he’d felt an inexplicable draw toward her, certainly not failing to notice how attractive she was.

“Wow, I got so much more than I bargained for this morning,” Tommy chuckles. “But why I actually stopped by was the game night idea. Are you up for that?”

Felicity locks her eyes with Oliver’s and lifts her eyebrows ever so slightly in silent question and he offers a nod in response.

They turn back to Tommy who observed their silent conversation with a knowing smile. “Let’s do it,” Felicity tells him. “Did you already have a date in mind?”

“Laurel and I are busy this weekend, and since there will be a few bottles of wine and beer involved during the week would be bad, too, but maybe next Friday?”

“We got a business dinner on Friday, but Saturday should work,” Oliver points out, remembering their dinner with Bruce Wayne that night.

Tommy claps his hands together in delight. “Perfect! I’ll let you get back to your flirting now. See you later,” he says as he retreats to the elevator, ignoring the pointed glares of his best friends. “By the way, Ollie, your pancakes are burning.”

Shit!

 

 **⁂** **⁂** **⁂**

 

Had anyone told Oliver a year ago that he’d be happy to cohabit with a woman, he would’ve laughed in their face. He’s had serious relationships alright, but none of them had ever come close to him wanting to live with those women. The only time the issue had been brought up, had been during his three year anniversary dinner with Helena, which had ultimately ended with her breaking it off because he wasn’t willing to take the next step and settle down with her.

That was two years ago, but now he’s been living with Felicity for two weeks and he doesn’t even remember why he was so opposed to the concept. Having someone live with him is probably the closest he’s ever gotten to having the perfect life. Admittedly, he thinks, it has everything to do with whom he’s living with. Felicity isn’t just a passing fling or half-hearted relationship. She’s everything.

Maybe you should finally tell _her_ that, says the pesky little voice in his head that sounds a whole lot like Tommy.

But he can’t, can he?

Can he put it all on the line, tell her how he feels and hope for the best?

He wanted to tell her the night of the fire, but that had all gone straight to hell. And now? Now they’re living together and she’ll probably think he’s just imagining things after spending so much time with her. When in truth he’d held onto his blossoming feelings for her for a year now without acting on them. God, he’s a damn coward.

They’re stretched out on the couch in the open living space in his loft, she’s propped against a pile of pillows, reading some tech magazine that he can’t even pronounce the name of, while her feet are in his lap, nudging him impatiently whenever his hands stop their ministrations.

He’s trying really hard to follow a football match on the obscenely big (Felicity’s words) flat screen TV, but the domesticity of the situation just overwhelms him. He’s so unbelievably happy to be here in this moment right now, rubbing her aching feet after she wore those mile high heels to dinner with Bruce last night and they had followed the meal with a few too many rounds on the dance floor.

Great food and wine, a very promising conversation with Bruce that was all thanks to Felicity doing what she does best and wrapping the other billionaire around her little finger in the matter of minutes. Afterwards, on the dance floor, they’d dived into their own world where no one else existed, swaying softly to the music of the live band, wrapped in each other’s arms. He’d carried her from the car to her bed last night, swearing to burn those evil shoes, which had awarded him with one of her happy laughs and long kiss to his stubbled cheek with a whispered, “My hero”. It had been a perfect night.

“Are we just ordering pizza later or did you wanna cook something?” Her voice is soft, but it still surprises him and he fastens his hands around her feet momentarily before relaxing.

“Pizza sounds good,” he answers, “Ice cream for dessert?”

She hums her approval, “It’s like you read my mind. Did Tommy say what games he had in mind?”

“After the last time I was kinda scared to ask,” he chuckles. “Still can’t believe you agreed to play strip poker.”

“Are you kidding me? I grew up in Vegas and know how to play like the best of them. I would’ve totally won, but I also remember you chickened out,” she teases.

“Yes, because my little sister was there,” he exclaims defensively. “That crosses way too many lines.”

“So you’re saying if your sister hadn’t been there, you would’ve played?”

“Maybe,” he says slowly, moving his thumb against the ball of her right foot with more intensity, barely suppressing a smirk when her breath stutters.

“I don’t think so,” she says with clenched teeth. “You always chicken out of things. Skinny dipping at the beach, jumping off that rock on our trip to California, going to the Harry Potter movie marathon. The list is growing longer, buddy.”

His fingers still against her foot. “Did you just call me ‘buddy’?”

“That’s totally beside the point. Get back to the foot rub, please.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“Don’t call me ‘Ma’am,” she grumbles her response but sighs happily once his fingers start moving again. “My point is that you’re a big ole chicken, Oliv-“

Before she can even finish her sentence, he throws himself on top of her, his fingers finding her sides in a matter of seconds and tickling her mercilessly, making her squirm violently against him.

“Stop, Oliver,” she pants out between laughs. “Stop it!”

He grins down at her and lifts one hand from her side, but the reprieve for her is only temporary before he slides down her outer thigh until he reaches the back of her knee and swiftly starts attacking it.

“Oh, god, no. Please stop, Oliver.”

She thrashes even harder against him, her hands trying to rip his left hand from her side, but it’s to no avail. Tears start running down her cheeks and she pants for air all while giggling like a little girl under his attack. It’s when she wraps her legs around his waist and they’re so fucking close to each other in the best way possible that his brain short circuits for a second and he loses his focus. With just the right burst of energy and some leverage from the couch under her, she manages to roll them.

For a split second he feels like he’s flying before he realizes that he’s actually _falling_ … to the ground. He lands with an ‘oomph’, Felicity’s weight on top of him and the fall knocking the air out of his lungs.

When he manages to pull in a deep breath, his brain finally has enough oxygen to process the position they’re in. He’s lying flat on his back, arms protectively slung around Felicity’s back. She’s straddling his lower abdomen, her hands on his shoulders and her face pressed into the side of his neck, irregular puffs of air hitting his skin. Her whole body is rippling with laughter and he can’t help but join in.

“Should we come back later?” Tommy’s highly amused voice sounds from somewhere, because of course Tommy is there. He’s always fucking interrupting.

 

 **⁂** **⁂** **⁂**

 

Felicity falls back against the couch right next to where Oliver has already sat down, dropping her head to his shoulder. “How can playing charades be this exhausting?” she complains and takes a sip of her wine glass.

“Well, to be fair you really get into it. Sorry for not guessing that last one.”

“Ehh, don’t worry, we still kicked their asses,” she says and pats his knee with her free hand. “Do you know what’s next?”

“Nope,” he shakes his head and lets his voice drop down to a whisper. “Is it bad that I kinda wish they’d go home so we can watch an episode of Game of Thrones before going to bed?”

She turns and rests her chin on his shoulder, looking him straight in the eye. “That sounds pretty amazing. How about we declare this the last game and then kick them out?”

“I like the way you think,” he mumbles and leans forward to press a kiss against her forehead before he can talk himself out of it.

Right on cue the others come back from the kitchen, juggling trays with countless shot glasses. At least they're only half full. “Time for ‘Never Have I Ever’,” Thea exclaims happily, throwing her fist in the air. Beside Oliver, Felicity just groans into his shoulder.

“Alright, but that’s the last game for the night,” Oliver amends.

“Ugh, party pooper,” Tommy teases. “Come on people, settle down. We all know how this game works. First one who has to down ten shots wins. Don’t lie or we’ll hate you forever. Questions come from this fantastic app,” he says and pulls out his smart phone. “Let’s do this. Never have I ever woken up next to a complete stranger.”

Oliver, Felicity and Tommy drink.

“Hey, don’t judge,” Felicity exclaims, holding her hands up, when she feels everybody’s surprised gaze on her.

“Never have I ever had a threesome.”

Tommy and Oliver drink. “For the record, these were separate occasions,” Tommy feels the need to clarify.

“Never have I ever slept with a married person.”

Only Caitlin drinks. “I didn’t know at the time, though.”

“Never have I ever had sex in a car.”

Thea, Roy and Felicity drink. Oliver glares in the direction of his sister and her boyfriend until he feels Felicity’s warm hand squeezing his thigh in a silent reprimand.

“Never have I ever played strip poker.”

Everybody drinks. Oliver just clenches his teeth.

“Never have I ever had a one night stand.”

Everybody except for Thea drinks. “You people are disgusting,” she teases jovially.

“Never have I ever gotten a tattoo.”

Felicity, Tommy, Roy, and Caitlin drink. Oliver tilts his head a little. “You have a tattoo?” he asks bewildered and tries to remember seeing it on her, but comes up empty. Felicity just nods mutely. Interesting.

“Never have I ever joined the mile high club.”

Tommy drinks. “You’re all prudes.”

“Never have I ever fantasized about anybody in this room. Ooh, now we’re talking.”

Everybody drinks and Oliver’s brain shifts into the highest gear. Felicity has fantasized about someone in this room? Could it be him? Who else would it be? He sure as hell has fantasized about her. So many times.

“Never have I ever had sex with someone 10+ years older than me.”

Tommy and Felicity drink, while Oliver’s jaw hits the floor.

“Never have I ever been walked in on by a parent.”

Tommy and Oliver drink, while Thea screeches ‘ewwww’.

“Never have I ever had sex in the past six months.”

Everybody except for Oliver and Felicity drinks. “What the fuck, man, how are you not exploding?” Tommy asks flabbergasted. Oliver decides to ignore his question and Felicity’s eyebrows that are raised in surprise.

“Never have I ever had or performed oral sex in a car.”

Everybody except for Barry and Caitlin drink.

“Well, guess I’m still the biggest slut,” Tommy shouts triumphantly, his speech a little slurred after the ten shots and everything he drank before.

“No surprise there, baby,” Laurel tries to calm him down with a pat on his cheek.

 

 **⁂** **⁂** **⁂**

 

It’s an hour and at least a miniscule effort to clean up later when they both plop back down onto the couch.

“Well, that was an interesting night,” Oliver comments with a wry smile.

“Ugh, I’m exhausted. Why are nights with Tommy always this exhausting?” she groans and then slams her eyes shut. “Nights that include drinking and dancing with him, not having sex,” she clarifies.

“Right,” he nods, ignoring the irrational iron fist that is clenching around his heart. “It was quite an enlightening night, though. Who was the guy that was ten or more years older than you?”

She lifts her head. “Do you really want to know?”

He nods solemnly.

“It was one of the professors at MIT,” she confesses. “I didn’t take any of his classes, but everybody told me how brilliant he was. I met him at a bar one night and we talked code for hours. Apparently, that’s all it took to make me hot and bothered. I went back to his apartment with him and that was that.”

“Weren’t you super young when you went to college?” he asks carefully.

“Ya, but I was almost 19 when it happened. Consenting adult and all.”

He wants to protest and say that it seems like her professor was still taking advantage of a young and impressionable girl, but he manages to hold his tongue. “So where’s that ominous tattoo of yours and what is it?” he quips lightly, changing the topic.

“I’m so not telling you that,” she huffs out.

“Do I need to tickle you again?”

“Don’t you dare!” she warns and backs away from him. “It’s just a string of binary code.”

Of course it is.

He looks at her, taking in her half lidded eyes and her crooked glasses, and decides to let it go for tonight. He gets up and holds out his hands. “I think we’re both beat. How about we skip GoT and just go to bed?”

“Ah, yes, please,” she replies with a grateful smile while he pulls her up from the couch.

He turns to her to say good night when they reach the doors to their respective bedrooms, but she beats him to the punch when she whirls around and throws herself into his chest, wrapping her arms tightly around his body.

He’s not sure what brought on this hug attack, but he just goes with it, surrounding her with his arms and pulling her closer until her body completely melts into his.

They stand there for a good two minutes, pressed tightly against each other, before she finally loosens her grip and takes a little step back.

“I don’t think I ever said thank you,” she says quietly as way of explanation.

“Hey, you’ve thanked me plenty of times. You know that I’m happy to have you here for as long as you want,” he replies gently.

She wrings her fingers together. “Not just for that. I mean I’ll be eternally grateful for this. For letting me crash here and for you looking after me. But I meant thank you for letting me into your life.”

His eyebrows draw together in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Offering me that job and making me feel welcome in the new position was one thing, but giving me your friendship was a whole other. Letting me look past your CEO persona and letting me see the real Oliver.”

“You’re welcome?” It comes out as more of a question.

“I’m serious, Oliver,” she protests, swatting at his chest lightly. “You opened up your life to me, introduced me to your friends, and now you opened up your home,” she shakes her head disbelievingly. “I don’t know how I came to deserve you.”

He thinks of telling her then. He wants to throw all caution to the wind and tell her that she deserves everything in this world, and that he loves her, and that he never wants to let her go. That he wants everything with her. A future. A family. Everything he never dared to dream about, but can see clearly now… with her by his side.

But then he sees something change in her eyes. One second she’s beaming up at him and then there’s a flash of… realization maybe, and her soft smile turns into a pained one.

After swallowing hard she steps onto her tip toes and shoots him a sad smile before pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Your ‘someone' is really lucky to have you,” she whispers but nearly chokes on her own words.

She quickly turns around and all but runs into her room, the door slamming shut before he can so much as blink.

What was she even talking about? His someo- oh, _fuck_. It comes back to him then. Their anniversary dinner when he told her that he had something important to tell her and she’d assumed that he wanted to tell her about a love interest. Which was the truth, but he’d never gotten to the point where he told her that _she_ was the ‘someone’.

And now she still thinks that he’s seeing someone that he has feelings for. Fuck! He should’ve just told her right there in the restaurant instead of trying to make it more romantic and go to the park.

He stares at her closed door, contemplating to barge in there and tell her right now, but quickly decides that they’ve both had too much to drink and that he wants to tell her when he’s stone-cold sober so that there’s absolutely no room for any doubts.

But he _will_ tell her soon.

 **⁂** **⁂** **⁂**


	5. Chapter 5

**⁂** **⁂** **⁂**

Two weeks have passed since that... _interesting_ game night. At first, things had been a bit strained between Oliver and Felicity. The distinct feeling of a missed opportunity hanging thickly in the air between them. But as usual, they'd found their way back to being easy and open with each other. What other choice do they have?

She shrugs out of her coat when she steps into the cozy warmth of Verdant's Serena Lounge, making a bee line for their regular corner table where her friends are already waiting for her.

"Lis, there you are, we thought Wayne had whisked you away for good," Caitlin greets her.

Felicity just chuckles in response. "It's not for a lack of trying, I'll tell you," she says and plops onto the couch. "He offered me a job... again."

"What was it this time?" Thea pipes up, handing her a flute of champagne.

"VP position and tripling my current salary," the blonde replies nonchalantly and takes a sip of the bubbly goodness.

Thea purses her lips. "He's upping his game."

"Did you at least get a little weak when you heard the offer? That's some serious money and a fantastic position," Caitlin inquires with a raised eye brow.

"No," Felicity says decidedly. "At this point I feel like it's more of a pissing contest between Bruce and Oliver. Bruce is still peeved that I took Oliver's job offer last year and stayed with QC. He's been throwing these offers at me left and right since then, upping the salary and position, but I don't care. I'm happy here, no need to change anything."

"Aww, at least my brother is doing _something_ right with you," Thea grumbles.

"Speak of the devil, where is Oliver anyway?" Laurel throws in. "Usually he's with you for these business dinners, right?"

"Most of the time, yeah, but he's been in Metropolis since Monday, meeting with Mike Carter of Goldstar Inc. We've been eyeing a cooperation with them for the past year and Oliver finally made some headway."

"Why didn't you say anything? I could've come and stayed with you," Thea exclaims. "Must be weird being alone again."

"Yeah, I mean, a little bit weird maybe. It's his place after all," Felicity sighs. "And anyway, he's probably getting sick of having me there all the time by now."

The collective snort from her friends makes her squirm uncomfortably in her seat, gripping her champagne glass tightly.

It's once again Thea who speaks up, "Oh, please. He loves having you there."

Felicity ignores the enthusiastic nods from her friends and replies ruefully, "Well, still, I don't wanna overstay my welcome."

Laurel huffs out a laugh. "Felicity, you could live there until you die and you wouldn't be overstaying, because he actually enjoys every single second he's with you."

Felicity opens her mouth to dispute her friend's argument, but quickly decides otherwise. Deep down she knows Laurel's just stating the obvious and there's no way she's going down that road with her friends. Not tonight.

So she deflects instead. "Enough about me. What's new with you, girls?"

"Well, to stay on the topic of cohabiting," Laurel says with a shy smile. "Tommy asked me to move in together."

The women all let out squeals and 'awws', and the conversation turns into a discussion on neighborhoods and whether they should look for an apartment or a house. Felicity tunes them all out, her mind reeling with what her friends had said about Oliver and her.

She can't deny the truth of her friends' words. It's not like she wants to leave or that Oliver is giving her any indication that he wants her to move into her own place sooner rather than later. No, it's the lingering thought of being in the way of Oliver's happiness. Not that she doesn't make him happy in a way, but there's still his mysterious someone that he hasn't mentioned again. And here she is with her little crush on her best friend, hogging all his time and even his apartment.

Oh, who the hell are you trying to fool, she scolds herself. It's not just a little crush. She's irrevocably, no doubt about it, head over heels in love with Oliver.

It had been a crush when she'd first met him. Maybe she'd also been a little star-struck by him. But there he'd been: Oliver Queen, handsome as fuck, billionaire CEO. And he'd taken an interest in her. Professional, albeit, but still, he'd given her an amazing promotion, insisting on almost daily lunches together, personally squashing rumors about them, and helping her in any way possible to make her new life as easy as he could. More than once he'd been her knight in shining armor (or rather knight in tailor-made Italian suit), in the office and outside of it, too.

So while Oliver Queen, CEO, was already beyond crush-worthy, she hadn't fallen in love with him until she got to know him as just Oliver, the loyal friend and doting brother.

She's in love with Oliver and she's completely screwed. She can either stay in the background, swallow her feelings for him and be unhappy, or she can put it all out there and put him in the impossible position to choose between her and someone else. What would that mean for their friendship? Could she go back to just being friends and forget about being rejected? About not being what he wants?

Why oh why did she have to fall in love with her best friend? Why couldn't she just meet a nice guy who was not so completely unattainable?

Because the universe is a sadistic asshole, her subconscious mind provides helpfully.

"What do you think, Lis?"

A blush creeps up her cheeks, realizing she's been caught zoning out. "Uh, what?"

She looks up and sees that they're all starting to put on their coats. Thea's looking at her with a knowing smile. "We decided to call it a night early."

"Oh, right, okay," Felicity breathes out a sigh of relief. As much as she loves her friends, she'd much rather be alone with her depressing thoughts on the whole Oliver situation.

Thea grabs her arm and holds her back while everybody else makes their way toward the exit. "For what it's worth, I think you should tell him. I love my brother, but when it comes to expressing his feelings he's always been a little slow. Don't let his silence fool you into thinking that he doesn't love you, too," the younger Queen tells her in a soft, knowing voice.

Well, great, apparently she's completely transparent when it comes to her feelings, Felicity thinks sardonically. "It's not that simple, Thea," she whispers, hesitating before continuing, "There's someone else."

Thea's face falls, confusion written all over her features. "You're seeing someone?"

Felicity shakes her head sadly.

"What? Ollie is seeing another woman? No, that... that can't be," the younger woman stutters out, shaking her head in disbelief. "Why would...? No, no, that doesn't make any sense."

Felicity's shoulder's lift and fall in a helpless shrug. It's not like she has any answers to her friend's questions or her own for that matter.

 

**⁂ ⁂ ⁂**

 

She drops her purse on one of the bar stools in the kitchen, grabs a bottle of water from the fridge, and trudges up the stairs tiredly, ignoring the eerie silence that engulfs the loft. It's been a long day with a full schedule in the office, the dinner with Bruce, and drinks with her friends, and she can't wait to just fall into her bed and let sleep take her.

Her body works solely on auto-pilot at this point. Shedding her shoes and dress along with her bra, shrugging into the t-shirt she left on the bed this morning, washing her face clean of her make-up, brushing her teeth, slipping under the soft covers of her bed.

Correction: _his_ bed.

Because apparently it doesn't matter that she'd lived alone in Starling for seven years. Two weeks of spending twenty-four hours a day never more than a hundred feet away from Oliver has crushed her independence and turned her into this needy, clingy monster that can barely fall asleep without him in close proximity.

But here, here in his bed, he's everywhere. His unique scent is surrounding her, wrapping her into a cocoon of love and safety that, if given the choice, she'd never willingly leave.

Unlike in her own bed across the hall that first night without him, here she can sleep and dream of what might never be.

 

 **⁂** **⁂** **⁂** **ARROW** **⁂** **⁂** **⁂**

 

He's home. Finally. After being away for five days he's finally home.

It's in the middle of the night and he's just completely beat after a long day of meetings and traveling. Sure, he could've stayed another night in the luxury hotel that his assistant had booked for him in Metropolis, but he'd just wanted to go home, so he'd gotten on the last flight out that night.

He walks quietly through the hall towards his bedroom, his steps faltering when he sees that Felicity's door is wide open. He hesitates for all of one second before he steps into her doorway, the need to see her almost overwhelming.

The curtains aren't drawn and the moon, shining in from the outside, casts the room into a soft, silver light. His eyes cut through the vast space, stopping on her bed. Her empty bed. He frowns involuntarily and his gaze skips down to his watch. Yup, it's still in the middle of the night, a little after 2am.

Where is she?

He steps into the room, his eyes automatically cataloguing everything he can make out in the dim light. There's a pile of electronics on the desk in the far corner, various items of clothing are draped over the desk chair.

Okay, so she hasn't left. She's just… what? Spending the night someplace else? Maybe she was having a girl's night and crashed at Laurel or Caitlin's. Yeah, that's probably it.

Or she's spending the night with another man, his traitorous asshole of a subconscious mind taunts him.

A weight presses down on his chest at that thought.

It's not unthinkable. She's beautiful and smart and funny, and any man with half a brain should see how utterly amazing she is.

So what if that's the case? What if she met a guy and went home with him? What if he's waited too long and she's finally had enough of this weird back and forth between them, and has moved on?

It's with that depressing thought that he retreats from her room and enters his own. Without bothering to turn on the lights he goes straight to his bathroom, spending a solid ten minutes under the hot spray of his shower, trying to drown the ache radiating from his heart.

It doesn't work. Of course, it doesn't.

He towels off and steps into a fresh pair of boxer briefs before dumping the wet towel in the hamper and leaving the steamed-up bathroom.

He comes to a dead stop when he reaches his bed.

The shock of blonde hair he'd recognize anywhere is sprawled across his pillow, her light strands of long hair shimmering in the moonlight.

She's here.

She's _here_.

In _his_ bed. Wearing his shirt, he realizes when he steps closer.

The crushing weight of disappointment that had settled on his chest just a mere fifteen minutes ago is lifted and he feels like he can finally breathe again. The sad feeling and dreadful thoughts vaporize from his mind and body and are instantaneously replaced by joyful wonder and hope.

She's here. She didn't leave him. She's not with someone else. She's here. With him.

He doesn't know what made her decide to sleep here and, honestly, he doesn't care. She's here and that's all that counts.

He briefly wonders if he should wake her and tell her that he's back. And for a split second he contemplates sleeping on the couch. He decides against both ideas. He needs this. Needs her. As close to him as possible.

So he climbs carefully under the covers on the other side of the bed and draws in a calming breath. She's here, he reminds himself again when he has to turn his head towards her to make sure he didn't imagine her being there. As if she heard his thoughts, she turns around and scoots closer to him until she's completely nestled against his side, her head resting on his bare shoulder and her hand splaying out over his torso.

And shit! He should've put on a shirt. Even with their soft touch, her fingers feel like they're burning into his skin, and he has to summon all his will power to stay still and keep from pressing further into her tantalizing warmth.

Tentatively, he moves the arm that is not being buried under her body, and slips his hand under the covers, finding the small of her back. At the contact she snuggles further into his body, mumbling a string of unintelligible words into his neck.

A wide, satisfied grin spreads on his lips. _Now, he's home._

 

 **⁂** **  
****⁂** **⁂** **  
****⁂** **⁂** **⁂** **  
****10 months ago**

_He's sitting across from Felicity on his big couch, trying (and failing) to follow her line of thought, and instead succeeds at being mesmerized by her enthusiasm and passion. Her bubbly nature is a sight for sore eyes after a seemingly endless day of meetings with investors and financial advisors, talking about the company's quarterly figures._

_Technically, this is a business meeting, too, but they'd ditched talking shop hours ago. Or maybe bottles ago. Can you measure time in empty wine bottles instead of hours?_

_He's not even sure how he convinced her to have their meeting at his place. After hours. On a Saturday night._

_In all honesty, the whole business meeting thing had just been part of a ruse to get her to agree to spend time with him outside of the office._

_Sure, they spend most of their lunch hours sharing a meal and pleasant conversation together, but they've never met on a weekend or at either of their places. But tonight things are different._

_Maybe it was the promise of good wine or maybe she had a similar desire to take their professional relationship a step further._

_That's what he's been trying to do for two months straight now. Hinting at wanting to spend time with her, get to know her, become her friend. God knows why, but this woman had masterfully dodged all of his attempts and proposals._

_It had confused him. Quite frankly, because he'd never met a single, straight woman (who was not part of his family) who had said no to him. Ever._

_But he'd quickly learned that that was one thing he admires about her. She doesn't let him get away with any of his usual bullshit, calling him out on things and disagreeing with him when she has a different opinion. It's refreshing, to say the least._

_Tonight she'd finally caved and agreed to coming over. And it has been an amazing night so far. Yes, they'd talked business in the beginning, throwing around numbers while cooking together. But business talk had quickly turned into personal talk and he'd finally been allowed to take a peek at who Felicity Smoak really is behind her professional mask._

_To say that he's even more impressed and completely in awe of this woman, now that he knows more about where she comes from and the odds she's beaten, would be an understatement._

_And maybe it's a little more than that._

_He'd felt an inexplicable pull towards her the first time they'd met and every time he's seen her since then. But that pull had become fiercer over the past two months and had reached its temporary peak tonight._

_He feels drawn towards her._

_Even though she's finally told him a little about her life he wants to know more. He wants to know everything there is to know about her. What makes her tick? What scares her? What are her dreams and hopes for the future?_

_Shit, this isn't good._

_He's her boss. He's not supposed to feel this way about her. He can't get involved with one of his VPs, especially one that is so crucial to his company's future._

_"_ _I think I'm going to head home," she breaks through his thoughts. "It's almost one. I can't believe we talked for this long."_

_He smiles at her. "I guess it's true what they say: time flies when you're having fun."_

_She tilts her head to the side. "Is that your way of saying you're having fun?"_

_"_ _No," he says with a smirk. "But if it works for you, go with it."_

_She chuckles lightly. "You're incorrigible." She taps at her phone a few times. "I'm gonna call for a cab."_

_His hand shoots out to cover hers on her phone before he even knows what he's doing. "Or you could stay here."_

_She raises her eyebrows in perfect synchronicity with her mouth opening to protest, but he cuts her off, "I have a perfectly fine guest room that no one ever stays in and I'd feel much better if you didn't go home alone this late at night. As much as I hate to say it, Starling isn't quite as safe as it used to be, even in this neighborhood."_

_He meets her probing gaze with one that he hopes conveys his honest worry about her well-being. "Please, Felicity."_

_She nods slowly, "Okay."_

_He smiles widely at her and gets up from the couch, offering her his hand. Together they make their way upstairs where he shows her where to find a fresh toothbrush and everything she might need and even skips over to his room to grab a t-shirt for her to sleep in._

_"_ _I'm right across the hall if you need anything," he tells her when he reaches her door._

_She smiles at him gratefully, "Thank you, Oliver."_

_"_ _Any time," he replies without hesitation. "Good night," he adds softly._

_"_ _Good night," she whispers back._

**⁂** **⁂** **⁂** **  
****⁂** **⁂** **  
****⁂**

 

With the memory of the first time she'd slept over still lingering in the forefront of his mind he wakes up the next morning. Even before he's fully awake and opens his eyes, he knows that she's gone.

The momentary flare of panic and disappointment is short lived when the waft of coffee and bacon reaches his nose. Within seconds he's out of bed, putting on sweatpants and a t-shirt, and halfway down the stairs, following the delicious smell straight to its source.

She's sitting in her usual spot at the kitchen island, breakfast plate and huge coffee mug in front of her while she sifts through the newspaper.

She looks up from the paper when he approaches her and she tilts her head, smile spreading over her lips. "Hey, stranger."

"Hey," he breathes out. "I missed you," he adds without thinking. Her eyes widen at his admission and he's sure she's just as surprised at his words as he is, but she doesn't give him time to backtrack or apologize before her lithe body crashes into his in a tight hug.

He huffs out a relieved breath and wraps his arms around her and drops his head to her shoulder that is covered by the same t-shirt she'd worn in his bed last night. His t-shirt. It still smells like him, but it also smells like her, and it's the best fucking thing in the world right then.

"We're gonna have to talk about this," she murmurs into his chest.

He sighs against her neck. "I know. We will. Later."

He goes with later, because right now he doesn't want to do anything else besides holding her in his arms for a little while longer.

 **⁂** **⁂** **⁂**

  
 


	6. Chapter 6

**⁂** **⁂** **⁂**

"Thea," Felicity says with a wide smile as she rounds her desk to give her friend a hug. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Can't a friend visit another friend at work just for the heck of it?" The younger woman asks as they sit down on the couch by the window that's overlooking the city.

It's the exaggerated innocence in her voice that makes Felicity pause. "Don't get me wrong, I'm always happy to see you. I'm just surprised to see you here, since you usually make an appointment with Gerry beforehand and today you're not in the books," she says thoughtfully, directing an inquisitive gaze at her friend.

Thea holds her gaze defiantly for a few seconds before throwing her hands in the air in surrender. "Ugh, fine. You got me," she blurts out. "I need a favor. A big favor."

"I have a feeling that I really shouldn't ask," Felicity says and presses her lips together before sighing. "Okay, what is it? What do you need?"

"As you know, Mom and I are organizing a charity gala that will be held at the Starling City Grand Hotel on Wednesday. We've been planning this for months and we had every detail worked out. There will be a cocktail hour at 6.30 followed by a four course dinner and then as the main event an auction."

Felicity tilts her head to the side. "I know all this, Thea. I RSVPed weeks ago that I'd be there. The program sounds great and it looks like everything is going according to plan."

"It's not. Stupid Melissa Bayridge cancelled earlier this morning because she got booked for some fashion show across the country and now we're short one participant."

"Participant?"

"For the auction?"

And then it clicks. "No!"

"You didn't even think about it," Thea whines.

"Because I don't have to. I'm not going to be auctioned off to the highest bidder."

"Not even when 100% of the proceeds of the auction will go directly into a fund that makes sure that young children all over the country will have access to education?"

"Thea…"

"Just think about it. You're the poster child for what can happen when children from a less fortunate background are given a chance. Without your full ride to MIT you wouldn't be where you are today. I'm trying to make that possible for other kids around the country and give them hope for a better future," Thea insists, grabbing Felicity's hand. "You can help to make that happen."

Oh, now the younger woman is just playing dirty, bringing up Felicity's past and basically guilt-tripping her into this.

"I really don't appreciate what you're doing here, Thea," she warns her friend with a raised eyebrow. "Can't you do it with whoever else you have?"

"Yes, we could, but Melissa was supposed to be the big seller so to speak and without her we'll probably fall short of our fundraising goal."

Felicity scoffs, "And you think putting me on that stage will raise as much money as Melissa 'I'm-an-international-supermodel-with-my-own-lingerie-line' Bayridge? Because if your answer to that is yes then you're absolutely crazy."

"Well, then I guess I'm absolutely crazy," Thea shrugs. When Felicity just stares at her in disbelief, she continues, "Do you even realize what kind of a catch you are? You're 26 and already VP of one of the biggest companies in the country, you're crazy smart and funny, and then there's the little fact that you're drop-dead gorgeous."

"Flattery will get you nowhere," Felicity mumbles in a half-assed attempt to protest.

"I'm just pointing out the truth," Thea replies easily. "There's gonna be a bunch of young, successful business men at that gala and sure, some of them will go for the brainless airheads that make money by walking over catwalks or look grimly into cameras, but most of them will want the real deal: a successful woman who can hold her own and is not just trying to be the flavor of the week because she doesn't actually need that to feel good about herself. I'm telling you, Lis, they'll be falling over backwards in order to win that date with you."

The woman in questions takes a deep breath and rubs the fingers of her free hand over her forehead. "So if I hypothetically said yes to this ludicrous idea of yours, how would that evening go?"

And oh god, is she actually considering saying yes?

"You'd have to be there for the cocktail hour to mingle with everybody and so that the bidders have a chance to talk to you in person, but they'll also get sent a short profile on each of the bachelorettes on Wednesday so they have some info beforehand. Then there's dinner with everybody and all the bachelorettes go backstage to freshen up and draw numbers to determine the order of the auction. You walk over a short catwalk and the bidding starts. Once that's completed, the highest bidder comes onto the stage and together the couple gets to pick another number that will determine the date that will be sponsored by the event. A dinner, a picnic, a ride in a horse-drawn carriage and stuff like that. Backstage, the bidder writes a check, you pick out when you want to have the date and we'll make sure the photographer will be there. After that you can enjoy the rest of the night at the gala with Tommy, Laurel and me."

"Laurel's gonna be there? And what's up with the photographer?" Felicity's head is buzzing with all the information Thea is throwing at her in what feels like lightning speed.

"Yeah, we'll have photographers at every date to take one or two pictures for a short follow up in our next newsletter. No biggie. And yes, Laurel will be there. She's also getting auctioned off, just like me. So, you won't be alone in this whole thing," Thea tells her reassuringly.

"Why does that not sound reassuring at all?" Felicity mutters.

"Because you're a worrywart?"

"Or maybe because you both have boyfriends who will bid on you to make sure you don't end up with some stranger," she retorts with a glare.

Thea, of course, ignores her snippy answer and claps her hands together. "Does that mean you're in?"

Felicity closes her eyes, blocking out her friend's hopeful and excited smile. It's not that she doesn't want to help Thea out with raising money, especially for such a worthy cause, it's just that she's never really comfortable at these big events anyway and now she's supposed to step onto a stage and get auctioned off to someone she doesn't know and then go on a date with that someone? She can definitely think of better ways to spend her Wednesday night.

"I'll make sure they'll have that Cabernet Sauvignon you like so much," Thea goads her. "Come on! It'll be fun! And if whoever is bidding on you isn't what you want, we'll just get Tommy or Oliver to trump them."

Oliver! Of course. He'll be at an event organized by his mother and sister. She'll just get him to bid on her. That's not pathetic, right? To ask your best friend slash maybe-kinda-sorta-more-than-that to bid on you? Thea and Laurel are gonna do the same thing with their actual boyfriends, right?

"Fine," she grumbles. "But I better have a full glass of Cabernet in my hand the whole evening."

"I'll refill it myself if I have to," Thea says with a triumphant wink and basically jumps up from the couch. "I gotta run, still got lots of stuff to get done before Wednesday." She gives Felicity a quick hug. "I'll see you in two days. Don't be late."

Felicity has barely five seconds to process what just happened before the next member of the Queen family comes into her office. "What was that all about? She didn't even come over to say hi," Oliver says with a raised eyebrow.

"It's kind of a long story," she replies and shakes her head. "Well, it's actually not that long, but I have a meeting with IT in five minutes, so I gotta get going. You free for lunch?"

He smiles down at her. "Of course. I'll be up here when you're done with your meeting."

"Perfect," she grins and steps on her tip toes, pressing a quick kiss against the underside of his jaw. "I'll see you later."

 

 **⁂** **⁂** **⁂**

 

"You're doing _what_?" Oliver asks, mouth hanging open, his fork suspended in mid-air.

"I'll be auctioned off to the highest bidder at Wednesday's charity gala," Felicity repeats carefully. "For one date."

He opens and closes his mouth once, twice, without a word coming out. She can basically see the cogs and wheels turning in his head, processing the information, and then the little crease between his eyebrows smoothens out.

"I'll talk to Thea if you don't want to do this," he offers tentatively.

She shoots him a warm smile and lays her hand over his on the table. "That's sweet, really it is, but I already said yes and I'll stick with it. It's for a good cause, how bad can it be?"

He clenches his jaw and a dark shimmer runs through his eyes.

"This is the point where you tell me not to worry because it'll be fine and there's absolutely nothing I have to worry about," she prompts, the mentioned worry slowly settling back in.

"I…" he hesitates.

"You what? Tell me!"

"I just… don't have the best experiences when it comes to these auctions."

"What does that mean?"

Yup, worry has successfully settled in, feeling like a lead weight in her stomach.

"I've never been to a bachelorette auction, but _I_ have been auctioned off a few times during these charity events," he offers hesitantly.

"And?!"

"And that was never really pretty. In my experiences, the bidders went bat-shit crazy."

Her mouth drops open. "In what way?"

"Offering crazy amounts of money, almost starting a brawl," he sighs and rubs his free hand over his chin and cheek. "They usually have a different understanding of what it means to 'win' someone in those auctions. The charity aspect becomes secondary and all they see is that they basically bought someone for a night."

"That… sounds horrible," Felicity exclaims. "But it can't be that bad if Thea asked me to do this, right? Maybe it's different when it's women?"

That's not a naïve thing to think, okay?!

Fine, it's totally naïve.

"I honestly don't know. Let's hope for the best," he says with an encouraging smile, but she can tell that he's barely holding off calling Thea.

"And it doesn't matter anyway, right? You'll be there to bid on me if things go crazy," she says with a shrug and takes a bite of her sandwich with her newfound optimism.

There's an uncharacteristically long pause before she hears his voice.

"Felicity…"

Oh shit. That soft, almost pleading tone? While incredibly sexy, it's also _not_ good.

Her head whips up and she immediately locks her eyes with his. The guilt she sees in his blue orbs actually makes her drop her sandwich.

"You won't be there?" God, she hates how desperate she sounds.

"I'm so sorry," he whispers and she knows that he means it, but that doesn't really help right now. "I'm flying back out to Metropolis tomorrow morning and have meetings all through Thursday to hammer out the details for our co-operation."

"Oh," she breathes out and then waves a hand in the air. "Well, then I'll just make sure Tommy bids on me." She tries sounding nonchalant but is probably failing spectacularly.

Oliver's eyes shift down to his plate but not before she can see another flicker of guilt run through them.

"What now?"

He clears his throat and fumbles for words. "It's… I don't know if the same rules apply to bachelorette auctions, but for our auctions there was a one-win-per-bidder rule that only allowed every bidder to have one winning bid."

Well, isn't that just fucking great?

 

 **⁂** **⁂** **⁂**

 

Wednesday rolled around quicker than Felicity would've liked. She'd said goodbye to Oliver on Tuesday morning who'd been on a 9 o'clock flight to Metropolis, and then her last hope of the evening going somewhat okay had flown out the window when Thea had finally told her that Oliver was indeed right about the rule. She'd apologized a million times for not knowing before roping Felicity into all of this, but now there was really nothing either of them could do. The short profiles had already been sent out to the bidders and it would look bad for Felicity and by extension QC if she withdrew now.

So here she is at her favorite day spa, getting a mani-pedi while sipping on a glass of champagne. It's five o'clock somewhere after all.

The spa day had been Thea's way of saying sorry and who was she to say no? And now after a massage, some time in the steam room and a few laps in the pool, she feels thoroughly relaxed and ready for the evening.

Famous last words?

Three hours later she steps out of the limousine Thea sent to pick her up, perfectly coiffed and in a red designer dress and golden stilettos. The photogs along the red carpet leading up to the hotel entrance idly take some pictures as she stands in front of the car for a second, but then lower their lenses in disinterest. She'll be the last person to complain about the lack of interest.

The cocktail hour is being held in a smaller room adjacent to the grand ballroom where the rest of the evening will take place. Everybody who is anybody in Starling is already there, drinks in hand, making polite small talk.

Felicity spots the closest waiter and snags a martini glass from his tray. She puts her pleasant public smile firmly in place and steels herself mentally when a man she doesn't recognize makes a beeline for her and starts introducing himself. She tries to pay attention, but her brain shuts down when he starts talking about his private jet and how he can show her the world.

In some ways this reminds her of the first ever gala she attended earlier this year. The setting was similar, even though there was no open meat market planned, and of course, back then she'd had Oliver by her side.

 

 **⁂**  
**⁂** **⁂**  
**⁂** **⁂** **⁂** **  
****9 months ago**

_"_ _You need another drink?" Oliver's voice sounds into her ear and he's so close that she can actually feel his breath ghosting over her skin._

_She hastily takes a step back before she can do something stupid like lean towards his comforting heat or something, and lets out a nervous laugh. "Sounds like a good plan."_

_He smiles warmly at her and offers her another glass of red wine which she accepts gratefully. "So this is a charity gala, huh? Not that I don't think it's great that all you rich people get together and raise money for a good cause, but the event itself seems to be a little overrated."_

_"_ _Yeah, I'm glad we, or rather our money, can help other people, but the galas can be a bit of a doozy sometimes," Oliver shrugs. "How's your first time so far?"_

_"_ _Well, I've had worse firsts," she blurts out before she can stop herself. The telltale heat of a blush is immediately creeping up her cheeks. "That… I…" She snaps her mouth shut and shakes her head in defeat._

_Beside her Oliver is shaking with barely contained laughter and she socks him lightly in the shoulder. "Don't laugh, this is a serious event. I'm pretty sure they'll kick us out if it looks like we're having fun."_

_"_ _God, I hope so," he sighs. "I wanna get out of this monkey suit and go home."_

_"_ _Aw, and leave me here by myself? Are you that keen on ditching me after spending a whole day with me?" Felicity teases._

_"_ _Well, I don't know if anyone has ever told you this, but you can be quite bossy, Ms. Smoak," he teases right back, playful smirk in place._

_"_ _Oh please, you secretly love being bossed around," she scoffs. "And I wasn't bossy. I was… happy to make decisions."_

_Oliver chuckles. "That's one way of calling you trying on seventeen dresses and so many shoes I lost count."_

_"_ _It's not my fault that you can only count to twenty, Mr. Queen."_

_He sucks in a deep breath slapping a hand over his chest. "Right in the heart, Ms. Smoak. You certainly know how to deflate a man's ego."_

_"_ _You'll live," she says with a soft smile and pats his stubbled cheek while he beams down at her. "But on a serious note, thank you for making today special and for putting up with me these last few days."_

_"_ _Any time, Felicity," he replies without missing a beat, covering her hand on his cheek with his._

_She'd been a nervous wreck in the days leading up to the first gala she'd ever been invited to. Completely overwhelmed with what to wear and how to act, she'd chewed Oliver's ears off during their daily lunches. This morning he'd surprised her when he'd turned up at her apartment, dragging her along to his sister's favorite boutique where she'd tried on dresses and shoes until she'd found ones she liked. Then they'd grabbed lunch at her favorite bistro and Oliver had dropped her off at a day spa where she'd been pampered to the point where she'd forgotten all about how nervous she'd been. He'd picked her up with some take-out already in the backseat, and driven her back home where they had a relaxed dinner before he'd left so she could get ready._

_They'd arrived separately at the event because he'd had to be there early to give interviews with his mother and sister, but as soon as she'd entered the ballroom, even before her nervousness could reach another peak, he'd found her in the sea of people and for the rest of the night he'd never been far from her without actually smothering her with his closeness. Not that that was a possibility._

_Throughout the whole evening he'd been there for her, supportive when judgements about her age and qualification were thrown her way, and firm when some of the men got a little bit too close. He'd introduced her to Moira and Thea, the latter of which had immediately roped her into agreeing to a shopping date. It had been quite the night._

_"_ _I think I'm ready to go home soon," she says, trying to stifle a yawn._

_"_ _Me, too," he sighs and reaches into his suit for his phone, quickly typing a message. "May I escort the lady home?" he says and offers his arm to her._

_She quickly puts down her glass on the tray of a passing waiter and links her arm with Oliver's. "You may."_

_Together they make their way to the coatroom where they retrieve their belongings, with Oliver helping her into her coat with a broad smile on his lips when she whispers her thank you. The cold night air only hits them for the few yards that separate them from the warm limousine._

_"_ _Quick stop for milkshakes at Big Belly?" he queries._

_She grins at him. "It's like you read my mind."_

**⁂** **⁂** **⁂**  
**⁂** **⁂** **  
****⁂**

 

She completely blocks out everything that comes after private-jet-guy. The rest of the cocktail hour and the four course meal that comes with endless small talk and fake laughs. She finally snaps out of her daze when Laurel and Thea drag her backstage to freshen up. They all take turns drawing little pieces of paper from a bag that the auctioneer is carrying around.

Felicity unfolds the paper with shaking hands. Number 15. How many participants did Thea say are there?

"Alright, ladies," the auctioneers voice sounds from the middle of the room. "Thank you for all taking part in this. We'll start with Number 1 and then proceed until all fifteen of you have found a bidder. Just go out there and smile and the show will run itself. I'll introduce each one of you and then the bidding begins. Any questions? No? Great! See you out there."

Ugh, great, just her luck to be the last one.

She exchanges some encouraging words with Laurel and Thea, and they follow each woman's auction until it's their turn and Felicity is left to herself.

Thea goes for eight thousand dollars to a beaming Roy who is waving what is undoubtedly Thea's checkbook in one hand as he climbs the stairs to the stage.

Laurel goes for ten thousand dollars to a smirking Tommy.

Some model whose name Felicity doesn't know but who's Number 14 goes for sixteen thousand dollars. Holy shit. No one will pay that much for her, Felicity thinks, the panic that's been brewing inside her for the past hours reaching its boiling point right when a stage technician nudges her through the curtain onto the stage.

She blinks rapidly against the lights that are pointed at her, barely making out the round tables in the ball room from where hundreds of pairs of eyes are staring up at her.

"And as our last participant we have Felicity Smoak," the auctioneer's voice resonates through the speakers.

She takes a deep breath and starts walking down the short catwalk, plastering on something she hopes is reminiscent of a smile.

"At only 26, she's the youngest VP in Queen Consolidated's history. For over a year now, this brilliant young lady, who, I might add, graduated from MIT at the tender age of 19 with a double Master's degree in Cyber Security and Computer Sciences, has been the Vice President of Technology Solutions, spearheading revolutionary research for the company."

She reaches the end of the catwalk and does an awkward wave thing with her hand before quickly turning around and heading back to the main stage.

"In her free time she likes to catch up on her Netflix and spend lazy weekends on the couch. The way to her heart is a good bottle of red wine and the Belly Buster Menu at Big Belly Burger."

Oh god, she will kill Thea!

She comes to a stop next to the auctioneer and turns back towards the crowd. Show time.

"The bidding starts at one thousand dollars. Do I hear two?"

"Two thousand."

"Three thousand."

"Four thousand."

"Five thousand."

"Ten thousand."

Her eyes widen when she hears the amount. Who would possibly pay ten thousand dollars to go on a date with her?

"Twelve thousand."

She lets her eyes roam over the tables, zeroing in on the two men bidding against each other.

Sweet baby Jesus, no! Carter Bowen with his stupid private jet and the guy with the creepy eyes, what's his name? Ray Palmer! She'd had the displeasure of talking to both of them over the course of the evening and is very confident in saying that either one of them would be a nightmare to go on a date with.

"Fifteen thousand."

"Twenty thousand."

"Twent-"

" _Fifty thousand_ ," a breathless voice booms from the entrance of the ballroom.

Everybody in the room turns their head in complete shock to the intruder. As the heaving figure takes slow steps towards the center of the room a few gasps can be heard, and then the whispers start.

"Uh, can you please repeat that, Sir?" the auctioneer asks in complete disbelief.

The man finally reaches the part of the room that has better lighting and when he speaks this time there is absolutely no doubt about his identity. "Fifty thousand dollars," he says calmly while still sucking in deep breaths.

Felicity's hand flies up to cover her mouth in shock. "Oliver?" she gasps.

 

 **⁂** **⁂** **⁂ ARROW** **⁂** **⁂** **⁂**

 

His chest is heaving, working overtime in an attempt to supply his lungs with precious oxygen. He's pretty sure he just ran a five minute mile from where he'd ditched his taxi that had gotten stuck in traffic.

But by some miracle he made it in time. _Just_ in time. Only one look at the stage where Felicity stood looking extremely uncomfortable and hearing the familiar voices of Carter Bowen and Ray Palmer, told him everything he needed to know.

He just throws out the first number that comes to mind, shocking everybody into silence. He ignores the looks and whispers as he makes his way closer to the stage, never taking his eyes off Felicity.

"Uh, can you please repeat that, Sir?" the perplexed auctioneer asks.

A little smirk settles on Oliver's lips. "Fifty thousand dollars," he replies in a steady voice, despite the deep lungfuls of air his body is still craving.

On the stage, Felicity covers her mouth with one of her hands, eyes growing wide.

The auctioneer clears his throat. "Well, then, fifty thousand going once. Going twice. And _sold_ to Mr. Queen. Congratulations."

Oliver finally reaches the stairs and takes them two at a time in an effort to get to Felicity just a little bit faster. She's standing stock still, rooted to her spot on the stage, hand still hovering over her lips.

"Hey, stranger," he whispers as he comes to a stop in front of her.

She opens her mouth and then closes it, opting for shaking her head in disbelief. He just smiles widely at her.

"Since you two are the last couple you'll automatically receive the sponsored date that is left. You two will be enjoying a fun night out in your very own VIP booth at Starling City's hottest night club Verdant, all expenses will be paid for. Enjoy! Ladies and gentlemen, we've reached the end…"

Oliver doesn't hear the rest of the speech, solely focusing on the woman in front of him as he gently ushers her backstage and into a secluded corner. There, when they're finally alone, she snaps out of her daze and launches herself straight into his arms, a gesture that he all too happily mirrors with his arms encircling her waist and pulling her into his body.

"Thank you," she whispers over and over again into his suit.

It's minutes later when they finally break apart, coming face to face with Thea's smug grin. "I thought you were out of town, brother dearest," she snarks.

"I was. Now I'm back," he replies in a clipped tone, not in the mood for his sister's games. "If you'll excuse us now, we're going home."

Without waiting for an answer he tugs on Felicity's hand that he'd held onto after their hug and pulls her gently along towards the exit. He knows he'll get an earful for just ditching the event after the entrance he just made from both his sister and his mother, but in that moment he couldn't care less. He briefly stops when they pass the auctioneer, pulling out his checkbook and writing the check, and then there's nothing in the way of going home.

He turns back towards Felicity and can tell that she's completely drained. She's never been a huge fan of attending these big events, but tonight without him there to distract her and with being put in the spotlight, he knows that she must be completely exhausted.

He tugs her closer, banding one arm around her waist, keeping her steady while they make their way to the door.

Flashes go off as soon as they hit the cold night air. Reporters and paparazzi are throwing questions their way, and really, he should've expected this and left through the back entrance. Oliver Queen can't go and make a bid like this without the tabloids going crazy. With a deep sigh he realizes that this will probably make their lives harder for the next few days, but still, he can't find it in him to really care.

One of their drivers pulls up then and Oliver quickly maneuvers them into the backseat, letting out a relieved sigh when the door falls shut behind him, effectively drowning out the commotion out there.

"You okay?" he asks Felicity who's leaning heavily into the seat, her eyes pressed closed.

"Yes," she affirms a second later, her eyes flying open, immediately finding his. "I really don't know how to thank you for this, Oliver. You came in there like my knight in shining armor."

He huffs gently. "Maybe, but we both know that you're no damsel in distress and that you can handle anything on your own. This would've been no exception."

She practically glows when she smiles at him. "It's still good to know that you're there in case I can't handle something."

"I'll always be there, Felicity," he murmurs and presses a soft kiss to her forehead.

She melts into him, grabbing his hands into her smaller ones. "I guess we can add this to the list of things we need to talk about eventually," she muses, bringing up one of his hands to press a kiss into the palm.

"Yes, but only after we get home and get some sleep. We both need it."

 **⁂** **⁂** **⁂**


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little heads up: dropping a few more F-bombs in this chapter!

**⁂** **⁂** **⁂**

When the elevator doors slide open, he takes a deep, steadying breath, inhaling the familiar scent of his home that now contains something new, something distinctly Felicity. He doesn't even try to hide the happy smile that breaks out on his lips at that thought.

Ever since meeting Felicity a little over a year ago, he's somehow known that she'd become an important part of his life. Their friendship had blossomed quickly, but now this is so much more than that. This, having her live with him, having her be there when he comes home after a business trip, is everything.

It had crushed him to leave her yesterday morning after the whole auction thing the night before, but he'd had no other choice. Mike Carter hadn't been very happy when Oliver had left their meeting early on Wednesday to fly back to Starling, so he'd promised he'd be back in the conference room first thing Thursday morning. So Oliver had left in the wee hours, sneaking into Felicity's room to leave a quick note on her night stand, and rushed to the private air strip outside of Starling where the QC jet had already been waiting for him. Then to make matters worse the negotiations had taken longer than expected and he'd been forced to stay another night in Metropolis.

The flickering lights from the TV lead him straight to the living area where he finds Felicity curled up on the couch.

"Hey, Stranger," he says with a soft smile as he rounds the couch.

She stretches out a hand and he immediately interlaces their fingers, all the tension from a stressful two days falling off of him. She tugs on his hand and he follows her lead, sinking down into the soft cushions next to her, slinging one arm over the back of the couch so she can nestle herself into his side.

"Welcome home, Stranger," she sighs against his shoulder.

For a few minutes they just sit there, basking in the closeness of each other. Oliver lifts his arm a little, trailing his fingers from her shoulders along her arm down to where their hands are still tangled in his lap.

"You're still in your work clothes," he notes after a looking her over.

"I only got here half an hour before you and I was too lazy to go upstairs."

He frowns at that and glances at his watch. "You were at the office until nine? Felicity, we talked about this."

A hot puff of air hits his neck when she sighs in defeat. "I knooow. But we both know how I lose track of time when I'm coding."

"That's why you have Gerry to remind you to go home."

"His wife started having contractions around noon, so he went to the hospital, and I didn't see the point of getting a temp for the rest of the day."

"Have you at least eaten something?"

"Pizza should be here soon."

He chuckles and shakes his head. "Didn't Raisa bring by groceries?"

"Probably, I didn't check. I ordered the pizza on my way over here."

"Well, I hope you ordered a large one. I'm starving."

She cranes her neck up to meet his gaze. "Of course, I did. With extra pepperoni and olives on your half."

Of course she did, because she's absolutely amazing. Without thinking about it he leans down, only stopping a hair breadth away from her lips when his brain catches up with him. When he pulls back a little he can see Felicity's wide blue eyes staring back at him in shock.

He clears his throat and pulls back a little further. "Maybe it's time that we talked," he whispers sheepishly.

She exhales slowly and nods. "You're right. We've been dancing around this for too long."

"So what do we do?"

She shrugs lightly, tilting her head to the side. "I think we should just stop holding back and see where that leads us."

"That simple, huh?" he asks, lips curling into a smile.

The hand that is not holding onto his comes up to cup his jaw, her thumb ghosting over his stubbled cheek. "Let's just be together and enjoy our time without any restrictions or expectations."

"Yeah," he breathes out. "I think we could do that. But just so we're clear," he starts and inches closer. "Being together would entail me being able to touch you however and whenever I want." His free hand trails up her shoulder, following the arch of her neck, sliding over her check until his fingers are buried in her blonde locks. "And I could kiss you whenever I want?"

She only manages an enthusiastic nod of approval before he finally closes the distance and kisses her. And, god, why he hasn't done this before is completely beyond him. Feeling her warm lips move in perfect synchronicity with his own, her hand magically gravitating to his chest, fisting the fabric of his shirt.

It's perfect.

 

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He chokes on the sip of water he just took when she descends the stairs in a gold dress that doesn't even reach mid-thigh. "You're not wearing that," splutters out of him in a garbled mess of words.

"Uh, yes, I am. I love this dress," she replies easily as she takes the last few steps, giving him a little twirl once she reaches even ground.

He grits his teeth, "It's too short."

She scoffs, "Oh please, it's not that short. And I actually thought you'd appreciate this."

"Oh, I do appreciate the sight you make. Believe me, I do. Your legs are gorgeous and the more I see of them the better," he says as he steps closer, letting his eyes sweep over her legs appreciatively. "But I don't want anyone else seeing this much of your legs," he practically growls.

She narrows her eyes at that, and her index finger pokes into his chest when he comes into reach. "Tone down the caveman act, mister," she warns him, absolutely no traces of playfulness in her tone. "Everyone can look as much as they want tonight while I'm on my date with you. It doesn't matter because the only person that's allowed to touch me and that I'm going home with is _you_."

He swallows down his protests, letting her words sink in. "Fine," he grumbles in response. "Just for the record, I'm not happy about it."

"Duly noted."

Half an hour later they step out of the town car in front of his sister's club. Of course the only sponsored date that had been left was this one. At least now his sister can stop badgering him about coming to the club.

They enter quickly through the back entrance, neither of them interested in making a scene by skipping the line in the front. With practiced ease, he guides her through the hallways and along the outskirts of the dance floor that is already thrumming with people.

They meet Thea and the photographer in the VIP area where they make quick work of getting the photos done before settling into their booth, champagne glasses in hand.

"To a fun night out," he says and raises his glass.

"Hear, hear," Felicity replies and clinks their glasses together. "So how drunk do I need to get you before you'll dance with me?" she asks cheekily, knowing full well that he doesn't like dancing.

"I'd say we need to break out the stronger stuff."

"We're at a club, Oliver. Dancing is one of the main activities you do at a club," she points out.

"And I will, once I'm pleasantly buzzed."

"But then you don't get to enjoy it as much as when you're stone cold sober." Her fingers land on his knee, drawing slow circles into his dress pants.

"It's dancing with you, Felicity. I'll enjoy it either way," he grinds out, stopping her fingers before they can drift up his thigh. This is so not the setting for this.

"Ah-ha!" she exclaims triumphantly. "You just admitted that you'd enjoy dancing with me while you're sober." She jumps up and holds out her hand. "Let's go."

He shakes his head, but relents, putting his hand in hers and letting her pull him up from the couch, but only after he downs the rest of his glass. Some alcohol is better than none.

With deliberate steps she leads them down the stairs and right into the center of the dance floor, hundreds of pulsing bodies around them. He pulls her as close as possible, feeling her hips move against his, her arms circling around his neck, pulling him closer. He shuts off his brain then and lets the music and the moment take over, letting his body flow freely to the beat.

Countless songs later Felicity mouths 'drinks' in his direction, knowing that even shouting in his ear would be futile with the loud music drowning out everything else. He nods and together they make their way to the edge of the dance floor right where the main bar is located. He orders quickly but excuses himself with a quick peck to her lips when his phone buzzes in his pocket, his mother's name flashing across the screen.

It's only a few minutes later when he emerges from the quieter delivery hallway, fighting his way back through the ever growing crowd. The smile at the sight of Felicity standing right where he left her falls from his face when he sees that she's talking to none other than Carter Bowen.

He clenches his jaw and quickens his steps. God, he hates that guy.

A surge of jealousy ripples through him. An emotion he's usually able to tamp down, especially around Felicity. But now with them being in a relationship he might as well let the green monster out for once.

 

 **⁂**  
**⁂** **⁂**  
**⁂** **⁂** **⁂**

**8 months ago**

_Oliver feels the steady beat of the bass drum through his body, the flickering lights making him a little dizzy. He's getting too old for this shit._

_He's standing on the balcony of the upper floor, forearms perched on the railing, hands clasped around his whiskey tumbler as he studies the gyrating crowd on the floor beneath him. Correction: he's watching just one particular gyrating body and it belongs to the quirky blonde he's come to call his best friend._

_It's all Thea's fault. Again._

_After the charity gala, she'd met up with Felicity to go shopping and to grab coffee and lunch, quickly becoming friends. A week ago, she'd insisted that her new friend should come to Verdant and have a night out. To his surprise, Felicity had agreed immediately, even suggesting that he should come along._

_So now here they are. He's drinking his fifth whiskey of the night, watching from afar as Felicity moves sensually on the dance floor, switching dance partners every song. And there's definitely no shortage of willing dance partners. Every single man in this damn club seems to be wanting to dance with her._

_He can't entirely blame them. She's like a ray of sunshine and a ball of happiness in her pink dress, moving her body in time to the rapid beat of the bass. Even he wants to dance with her for god's sake. And he hates dancing._

_But instead of going down there and taking her for a spin, he limits himself to watching over her from a safe distance. He's not sure what being so close to her would do to him. To them and their friendship. Because what he's feeling when he's looking at her right then goes way beyond friendship._

_His fingers tighten around his glass when he sees the guy she's dancing with spin her around so she's facing away from him, wasting no time in closing the momentary distance and pressing his front to her back. Hips grinding into hers._

_It's like a wildfire has erupted in Oliver's body. Quickly spreading from his core to every last nerve ending. He goes completely rigid, muscles tensing up, his jaw clenched so hard that it actually hurts. He feels the unadulterated urge to punch the guy in the face, drag him away to a dark alley and make sure he never comes close to his Felicity again._

_A sharp pain suddenly resonates from his hands and when he looks down he's shocked to see that he just shattered the glass he was holding. His hands are a mess of whiskey and blood oozing from the cuts where shards of glass have protruded his skin._

_God, he needs the control over his feelings back right fucking now._

**⁂** **⁂** **⁂**  
**⁂** **⁂** **  
****⁂**

 

When he comes closer, he stops dead in his tracks when he sees Bowen sling an arm around Felicity's waist, pulling her flush against his body. She in return leans up with a smirk and starts talking into his ear, but Oliver's seen enough. He closes the distance and forcefully pushes Carter away from his girl.

"Piss off, Bowen," he growls at him.

"Can't take a little competition, Queen?" his opponent sneers back and takes a step towards him.

"You're not even close to being competition, so just spare us all the shitty pick-up lines and leave."

Bowen smirks back at him, completely undeterred. "I don't know. I think she actually liked what I had to offer."

Oliver's fist clenches at his side and he steps right into the other man's personal space. "Stay away from my girl or I'll make you."

He's this close to just punching the asshole for even trying to talk to Felicity while she's on a date with him. His arm twitches in anticipation, but before he can make good on his threat Felicity somehow squeezes into the space between them, both hands flat on his chest, pushing him away.

"Stop it right now," she hisses at him. He finally stops his stare down with Bowen and chances a look at the blonde in front of him, letting the warmth from her fingers against his chest ground him.

He's not surprised that he sees anger in her blue eyes, but he _is_ surprised when he realizes that the anger is directed at him. What the hell?

She gives him another push and then abruptly turns around to her left and storms off, through the crowd that has gathered around them, towards the stairs that lead up to the VIP area.

Without sparing Bowen another look, he bolts after her, but by the time he makes it to their booth she's already gathered her purse and is throwing on her coat.

"Where the hell are you going?" he demands, irritated.

"Home," she snaps at him.

"What? Because of what happened down there?"

"If you wanna start a fight, that's fine, but I'm catching a cab to go home," she says with finality, trying to move past him, but his hand shoots out to stop her.

"No!" she hisses. "I came here tonight to have fun. Dance with you, drink a little, enjoy a night away from the office and just let go a little. I did not come here to see you turn into a caveman for the second time tonight."

"I was trying to help you," he throws back incredulously.

"No, you barged in while I was handling Carter's advances, and you just felt the need to very publicly mark your territory and make sure everybody knows I'm yours."

"And what's wrong with that?"

He knows he's said something wrong when she practically recoils from his touch, bringing a foot of cold air between them. There are so many emotions swimming through her eyes then that he can barely keep up with identifying them. Surprise. Sadness. Anger. Hurt.

"I'm not your property, Oliver," she says with a thick voice and turns around, leaving him behind in their booth.

Minutes pass and he just stands there numbly, not even hearing the booming music anymore over the loud, static rush in his ears.

Is that really what she thought he was doing? Claiming her as his property?

Is that what he _was_ actually doing?

No, he'd just wanted to protect her. Of course, she's not his property. But she is his girlfriend and he's allowed to keep slimy douchebags away from her, right?

Sure, he could've dealt with the situation more discretely, but he'd just seen red when Carter had touched her. No one but him has the right to touch her.

Shit, in a way she was right. He'd wanted to claim her as his girlfriend and make sure that no other guy would touch her.

He finally wills his body to spring into action, go after her, go home and talk to her. Anything! Anything to make things right between them.

He swivels around only to be faced with his little sister's sympathetic gaze. "Let her cool off."

"But-"

"Let her cool off," she repeats slowly.

"No, I have to make things right," he tells her angrily.

"No, Ollie, you need to give her time to process what happened. If you force her to make a decision right now, it might not be the result you're hoping for," she cautions him, pushing him towards the couch and gesturing for him to sit down.

He does just that, accepting the glass of amber liquid she presses into his hands. "What do you mean by that?"

His sister sighs and sits down next to him. "Thursday night she called me. She was a complete wreck. Apparently, she'd overheard someone at the office talking shit about her. Something along the lines of you being the only reason why she's a VP and now that you 'own her' after winning her at the auction she can finally repay you accordingly in public. I'll spare you the details of how they suggested she could do that."

His breath catches in his throat at her words. Who would even think something so cruel, let alone voice that opinion publicly? Anyone with half a brain should see that she's absolutely brilliant at her job and there's no doubt about her professional qualifications. So who would even think about doubting her?

With a sinking heart he thinks back to her first day when she'd voiced her worries about rumors within the company. He'd assured her that he'd have no one doubt her right to be in her position and her worth to the company, and yet he'd apparently failed to see what was going on right under his nose.

Have the nasty rumors and accusations been a steady companion to her for the last year? Would she have kept something like that from him?

She sure as hell didn't tell you about this instance, his mind snarks at him.

"Why didn't she tell me about this?" he croaks out, a hint of desperation in his voice.

"She said you had enough on your plate with the deal with Goldstar Inc." Thea shrugs, but her gaze lingers on his face with a spiked interest.

"Something's changed between you two, hasn't it?"

Damn her for being so perceptive. "We, uh, kinda decided to give a relationship a go last night. Not sure she's still interested after tonight, though," he voices the fear that has a vice grip on his heart right now.

"She'll come around, Ollie," his sister assures him. "Just give her some time to work through everything and then go talk to her."

"Fine," he grumbles in defeat. "But I'm only staying for another 30 minutes."

"That's good enough," Thea says and presses a quick kiss to his cheek before getting up. "Don't mess this up, Ollie. She's the best thing that ever happened to you."

"Don't I know it."

 

 **⁂** **⁂** **⁂**

 

Ten minutes of restlessly bouncing his leg up and down, taking the occasional sip from his whiskey, and he's a nervous wreck. How is he going to apologize? Should he stop for flowers on the way? Should he grab some of her favorite ice cream? Should he…

His thoughts are suddenly interrupted when he feels a warm, slender hand coming from behind him and skirting over his collarbone and diving right into his shirt, fingers widely spreading over his chest, long nails digging into his skin. Before he can even react to the complete intrusion of his personal space a hot mouth latches onto his neck.

"Smile for the camera, Mr. Queen," a male voice sneers and a flash goes off.

He's disoriented and confused for a couple of seemingly endless seconds, frozen in his spot. Then everything seems to happen at once; Oliver rips away from the woman, that had snuck up behind the couch, and lunges forward trying to tackle the man he suspects took the photo. He collides with his body, ripping him to the floor, grappling for the phone in his hand. Even with the loud music he can hear the telltale sound of a sent email coming from it. A second later, and he holds the phone in his hands, staring at the screen in horror when he sees the photo. He'd figured that it wouldn't look good, but as he stares down at the photo he realizes that it's even worse than he'd thought. Much worse.

He's sitting on the couch, looking like he's just relaxing with a glass of whiskey in his hand sitting right next to his thigh. And then of course there's some red haired woman with her hand down his shirt and her mouth on his neck. The worst thing? His eyes are fucking _closed_. He must've blinked in just the wrong moment and now, even with the grim line that is his lips, he looks like he's actually enjoying the woman's ministrations.

He scrolls up and he's pretty sure the little color that was left on his face completely drains at the sight of the recipient list. Every single newspaper, magazine, and online gossip site now has that picture of him.

Felicity.

_If it's online, I can find it._

If she sees this picture before he can explain himself, she will come to the only logical conclusion: that he'd hooked up with someone else on the same night that had been their first date, only a day after agreeing to give in to their feelings for each other.

Fuck. Fuck. _Fuck._

 **⁂** **⁂** **⁂**


	8. Chapter 8

**⁂** **⁂** **⁂**

His pulse drums wildly in his ears as he speeds through the dark streets of Starling City, weaving in and out of the sparse traffic. He knows that he should slow down, maybe even stop to calm his erratic heart, but he just wants –no, he _needs_ \- to find her.

He'd left Verdant almost an hour ago, barely slipping by the paparazzi's ready lenses without being seen. His driver had promptly brought him home, but there'd been no trace of Felicity. Her car keys were still where she'd left them yesterday and nothing else had seemed to be out of place. He'd grabbed his own keys and helmet and had gone straight down to the parking garage where he kept his sleek, black Ducati.

He'd been calling her continuously every five minutes without an answer, even while driving around the city at a break neck speed. After leaving ten messages on her voicemail, saying he was sorry and pleading her to call him back, he'd given up on that particular option.

His first stop during his search had been her favorite ice cream parlor only to find it already closed.

His second stop had been her favorite bar downtown and then both of Starling City's Big Belly Burgers. Every time with the same result: no sign of Felicity.

Needless to say that he's reached a point where his mind and body are completely overwhelmed by desperation and frustration. Where is she? Why is she not answering his calls and texts? Did he fuck it all up with her before they really even got started?

His thumb hovers over Caitlin's name on his phone, debating if he should call her or not. She would probably be the first person that Felicity would call in this situation, right? Maybe he should just stop by her place and see if his blonde whirlwind went to her best friend for advice.

No, not yet. That's an absolute last resort. There's one last place he'll check out before he calls Cait. With a renewed purpose he turns his bike around and drives towards his company's headquarters.

At this late hour on a Saturday night, the usually busy lobby is completely deserted, safe for the lone night guard that mans the reception desk, giving Oliver a friendly nod, who returns the greeting and makes a beeline for the executive elevator.

It's the faint, lingering smell of her perfume in the small confines of the elevator car that makes him hopeful that Felicity's here or at least was here until very recently.

Now that he has a few seconds to really think about it, it makes total sense for her to come here. This is where she spends most of her time, where she comes up with new ideas and where she solves problems.

The little ding from the elevator alerts him to the arrival on the executive floor. A long relieved breath leaves his body when he steps into the little lobby and immediately sees light streaming through the floor length windows of Felicity's office.

She doesn't react when he enters, too busy typing furiously on her keyboard, so Oliver seizes the moment to take her in. Her previously loose hair is swept up in a messy bun on her head, she's doing that crinkly thing with her eyebrows that she usually does when she's worried about something. Her cheeks are flushed with a tinge of red and she's absentmindedly chewing on her bottom lip. Her perfectly manicured fingers are flying effortlessly over the keyboard, forcing whatever is going on on the screen into submission if the triumphant uptick of her lips is anything to go by.

 _Beautiful_ , is all that comes to his mind as he watches her work so concentratedly.

"What?" Her head whips up, wide eyes pinning him down, as one hand flies up to cover her chest in surprise.

Shit, did he say that out loud? She's really rubbing off on him.

He fumbles for words in his brain. How does he start? How does he apologize and tell her about what happened? How can he make her believe him?

After opening and closing his mouth a few times, he settles on "Hi?", but even to his own ears it sounds more like a question. Smooth, Queen.

A head tilt is the only answer his eloquent greeting provokes.

He clears his throat and takes a step towards her desk.

"What are you doing here?" she finally asks, completely foregoing a greeting.

"I was about to ask you the same question," he retorts quickly. A small voice in the back of his head tells him that it's not a good idea to challenge her instead of just getting to the apologizing part.

Her raised eyebrow tells him just as much, so he sighs in defeat and licks his lips nervously. "I came to apologize for my behavior," he admits and takes a deep breath before continuing carefully, "And I wanted to warn you that there's a photo-"

"Of you getting down and dirty with a red head minutes after I left? Yes, I know," she interjects without missing a beat.

Great, he's too late.

"Felicity, it's not what it looks like!"

She huffs out a breath. "See, I had a bet going with myself on what you'd say first to explain this mess. Looks like I won."

"No, please, she came out of nowhere and then the flash went off and before I could do anything the guy had already sent the photo and..." He sucks in a deep breath to stop his rambling. He just needs her to know that it was all a set-up, that he'd never do this to her.

"Please, you have to believe me!" And yeah, okay, he's begging now.

"I do."

"I know this is all new between us, but I would never ever cheat on you or betray your tru-... Wait, what?" he asks dumbfoundedly when his brain finally registers her words.

She smiles warmly at him. "I believe you."

"I... That... What? Why?" He stumbles over his words, his brain drawing a complete blank.

She gets up and rounds her desk, warm, reassuring smile still firmly in place. "Because a) I trust you." He's pretty sure his heart does a somersault at hearing the unwavering conviction and honesty in her voice. "And b) that was Carrie Cutter. She's notorious for throwing herself at every man with a hefty bank account. It was just a matter of time until she got you. Her ungodly timing of finding you tonight is just the cherry on top," she says with a shrug and steps closer.

She licks the pad of her thumb and brings it up to the side of his neck, rubbing furiously at the spot where the red head, Carrie whatever, had kissed/attacked him. When she's done, she wrinkles her nose in disgust at the remnants of red lipstick on her finger.

"You better shower three times before you even think about sleeping in the same bed tonight. You smell like cheap perfume. Pretty sure this one's called Skanky Whore."

She whirls around with a grin, leaving him with his mouth hanging open in shock as she makes her way back to her chair.

What just happened? She's talking about sharing a bed tonight? After everything that happened?

"So you're not mad anymore?" he asks carefully, trying to make sense of the situation.

She fixes him with a glare, clenching her jaw. "Oh no, mister, I'm still pissed as hell, but this takes priority. We'll definitely have a very pointed conversation once I'm done with damage control."

He swallows hard. Pointed conversations she does well, he thinks, remembering some of the arguments he's lost to her over the past year.

"Damage control?" he asks, trying to keep her mind occupied with whatever she deems more important right now. Maybe it'll soften her wrath later.

She nods eagerly, looking at her computer screen with a smile that he'd describe as almost cocky. "I unleashed one of my very deadly babies on these media assholes."

He just raises his eyebrows in question.

"A virus," she clarifies, waving towards her screen, "that I've been working on for months now. Don't get me wrong, I hate that this happened to you, but I must say I'm also kind of excited to test my baby on this large a scale."

"What exactly does your baby do?" he asks in confusion. Hearing her talk this excitedly about 'her baby' is distracting as hell.

"Whenever that photo pops up and/or your name is mentioned alongside some telling keywords my baby jumps into action and crashes the site and readers just a get an error page."

"You're crashing all their homepages?" he questions to make sure he understands her correctly.

She narrows her eyes at him. "Is that judgement I'm hearing?" she asks, waggling her index finger at him in warning.

A small, disbelieving smile forms on his lips and he shakes his head. "No," he clarifies. "Pride!"

 

 **⁂** **⁂** **⁂** **ARROW** **⁂** **⁂** **⁂**

 

As the elevator soars up to the penthouse, Felicity barely resists the urge to lean into the inviting warmth that's beckoning her from Oliver's body. But now's not the time.

Talk first, cuddle later, she tells herself repeatedly.

Oliver is hot on her heels when she exits the elevator and she only has time to blink once before a dark shadow is rushing towards them, crashing straight into Oliver's body.

"You son of a bitch," an all too familiar voice screams at her boyfriend who's being pushed violently against the closed elevator doors.

"Tommy, what the-" Oliver asks in shock.

"No, man, you don't get to talk," Tommy yells right in his face, making Oliver flinch in surprise. "What the fuck were you thinking? You start the night with a date with Felicity and end it with some random red head? What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"That's not-"

"Shut up! You have an amazing thing going on here with an amazing woman," he continues undeterred, waving his hand towards Felicity. "I don't care if you two still haven't figured out how much you mean to each other, because I and everybody else can see it as clear as day. And I will _not_ let you lead her on and then drop her like a hot potato for the next short skirt you wanna chase. I thought you were better than this, man."

"He is," Felicity finally interjects, crossing her arms over her chest. "Let go of him, Tommy."

There's one short moment when her friend's jaw clenches dangerously and his fingers tighten their hold on Oliver's shirt when she thinks he might take a swing at his best friend.

"Tommy," she warns him, raising her voice to get through his thick skull. "Let go."

With an annoyed sigh he does as she says and turns around to her. "You deserve better than this," he bites out.

She just rolls her eyes and looks over his shoulder to make sure Oliver is alright. Safe for the rumpled shirt and a bewildered look on his face he's fine, so she turns a withering glare towards Tommy.

"What do you think you're doing? Ambushing your best friend in his own apartment, Tommy? Really?" she says with a disapproving huff.

"He had it coming," Tommy grumbles. "Why the hell aren't you mad at him? Haven't you seen the photo?"

"I've seen the photo," she assures him. "But you should know better than to believe everything that's written on the internet. You of all people should know how much they can blow stuff out of proportion."

"Her hand was halfway down to his dick, Felicity. And she was clinging to his neck like a fucking vampire. Explain to me how I can possibly misinterpret that?" Tommy exclaims disbelievingly.

Behind him she can see Oliver cringe at his friend's words and look at her with the same pleading look he'd given her in her office half an hour ago. Pleading with her to keep believing in him.

"You need to take breath, Tommy," she tries to calm him down. "That photo was a set-up."

"Oh, is that what he told you?" he mocks.

"It's what happened," she shoots back sternly. "Carter Bowen paid the woman and the photographer five grand each to pull that stunt to make Oliver look bad."

Tommy raises his eyebrows in disbelief, clearly still unconvinced.

"Why would he do that?"

"Because he's a dick," she deadpans.

That earns her a chuckle from Oliver who finally seems to come out of his shock, moving past Tommy to sidle up with her.

He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. "He was making a move on Felicity earlier tonight and I told him off. I guess he didn't like that too much," he says with a shrug.

Tommy narrows his eyes at them. "Then where were you this whole time? I've been waiting here for over an hour, calling both of you a million times."

"Well, I was doing some damage control over at QC, since my computers there are much faster than anything I got here," she explains, consciously leaving out their fight. No need to get him worked up again. "Tommy, I love you, but it's been a long night and I just wanna go to bed. So it'd be great if you could just apologize to Oliver for overreacting, give him a hug and then go home."

"Fine," he grumbles in response and turns to Oliver. "I'm sorry for overreacting and for jumping to conclusions."

Oliver nods solemnly and extends his hand. "I'm glad to know you're looking out for her."

Tommy takes his hand and pulls him into a quick hug. "Gotta make sure that you know that I'll kick your butt if you hurt her," he says and throws a wink at Felicity who can only roll her eyes at the sudden shift in moods. Leave it to Tommy to go from ballistic to teasing in a matter of seconds.

She releases a deep sigh when the elevator door closes behind their mutual friend.

"Well, that was interesting," Oliver muses next to her. "Thanks for defending me."

She shakes her head and chuckles in response. "I figured he needed to hear it from me to believe it. That photo really doesn't look good."

He sighs. "No, it doesn't." He's silent for a beat. "I couldn't help but notice that you neither mentioned us being together nor our fight," he says and licks his lips nervously.

She tilts her head to the side in thought. "No, I didn't. Would've probably made it harder to get him to leave if I had mentioned either of those things."

She watches as he shifts from one foot to the other and clears his throat before finding his voice. "But we are… uh… we're still together, right?"

"Oh, Oliver," she breathes out and steps closer to him, leaning up to press a quick peck to his lips. "Of course. One fight's not gonna tear us apart."

His sigh of relief is both audible and she can feel it as his chest heaves against hers. "I just…" he trails off, eyes fixed on her with an almost desperate look. "We just decided to give this a go yesterday and somehow we end up having a fight within the first 24 hours. What kind of a start to a relationship is that?"

"A rocky one," she admits, but tightens her arms around his back, pressing her body further into his warmth. "Can we please talk about this when you don't smell like another woman's perfume?" she asks sheepishly.

He chuckles into her hair. "I do think my girlfriend advised me to take three showers tonight."

"Smart woman. You should listen to her," she retorts without missing a beat, smiling up at him mischievously. "How about we both shower and then meet back down here for a glass of wine and a talk?"

He brings his lips down to cover hers in a kiss that's over all too soon. "Sounds like a plan."

 

 **⁂** **⁂** **⁂**

 

They settle into the soft cushion of the couch 30 minutes later, each armed with a glass of red wine. Felicity's pleased to note that Oliver finally completely smells like his delicious body wash again and not like the cheap, disgustingly fruity women's perfume from earlier.

With a smile she laces the fingers of her free hand with his, resting them on top of her thigh. It feels so natural to reach out and touch him. Even after just a day of officially being allowed to do this she can't imagine ever going back to how it was before.

"I'm sorry for earlier, Felicity," he breaks the comfortable silence, his tone so incredibly earnest. "I didn't put my best foot forward and let my emotions get the best of me. I'm sorry I made you feel like I was claiming you as my property. I know that you're your own woman and that you can stand up for yourself."

She tightens her fingers around his. "Apology accepted."

He smiles softly at her. "It's that simple?"

"Yes," she reassures him. "I get that you feel an urge to claim your stake now that we're together." At his questioning gaze, she elaborates, "I'm not a stranger to the feeling of jealousy when it comes to you, Oliver. You know how many times I've watched women throw themselves at you over the past year?"

 

 **⁂**  
**⁂** **⁂** **  
****⁂** **⁂** **⁂**

**5 months ago**

_Felicity grips her champagne flute a little tighter as she surveys the ball room below her. She's standing on top of the staircase, giving her the perfect vantage point to observe Starling City's elite mingle with each other, without running the risk of getting roped into another boring discussion of any kind._

_She's at another charity event as one of QC's representatives and once again she's bored out of her mind. She doesn't quite understand where everybody's need to dress up to the nines and attend these galas every other week comes from. She's happy to donate money and contribute whatever she can to these worthy causes, but she'd rather do it from her comfortable couch while watching reruns of Doctor Who instead of spending ridiculous amounts of money on new dresses only to be fed tiny portions and be confronted with the dullest conversations she's ever encountered._

_Usually, Oliver and Thea would be by her side during these things to keep her and themselves entertained, but they're both making their rounds at the moment._

_Her eyes wander over the crowd below, eyes zeroing in on Oliver who's currently talking to a gorgeous brunette in the far corner. If her body language is anything to go by, she's definitely trying to score with him. One of her hands is playing with is tie, she's leaning towards him, throwing him flirtatious smiles, laughing overtly at whatever he's saying._

_Felicity sighs and takes another sip of her glass, frowning when she empties it. Didn't she just get this one?_

_Her eyes involuntary wander back to Oliver and the clingy brunette who is now running her hands all over his torso. What the hell? Why isn't he doing anything about it? He should be telling her off!_

_Her angry thoughts have to yield to more depressing ones. Maybe he's not doing anything because he likes it. Or maybe because she's his type and he's not opposed to sleeping with her. Maybe he'll call off their traditional post-gala Big Belly run and go home with the brunette instead. Because that's absolutely his right as a successful, handsome as hell, single man._

_God, she needs more alcohol to endure this. Maybe that'll make her forget about the fact that she wishes she could trade places with the brunette. That she wishes she could run her hands over his chest, tangle her fingers in the short strands of his hair. Take his hand and pull him away from the crowd and into an empty room. Feel the scratch of his beard against her- WOAH, nope, so not going there!_

_Put your feelings back into a box and file them away like you always do, she tells herself, knowing full well that that's so much easier said than done._

**⁂** **⁂** **⁂**  
**⁂** **⁂** **  
****⁂**

 

"Well, then you hopefully also know that nothing ever came of those instances." It's his turn to reassure her with a soft smile.

She returns his smile and continues, "My point is that up until now neither of us had the right to do anything about the others. But now that we're together it's natural to feel even more protective and to want to step in. I get that. But there is a fine line between being protective and being a possessive asshole."

He chuckles sardonically and brings her hand up to press an apologetic kiss against the back of it. "I know. I'm sorry. The last thing I wanna do is screw this up."

"You won't," she emphasizes. "We're in this together. I'm yours just as much as you're mine. I don't have a problem with you saying I'm your girl, because I sure as hell will tell people that you're my guy. I just don't want you to start a physical fight with some douchebag, especially after I told you that I had everything handled."

He leans over to press a lingering kiss to her lips. "You're amazing."

"Mhhh," she hums and nibbles on his lower lip softly. "You're not so bad yourself."

After one more kiss he pulls back, a curious eyebrow raised. "So how did you have it handled?"

She smirks widely at him, knowing that he'll enjoy this tidbit of information. "I threatened to release his sex tape that I stumbled upon when I looked into him after the auction. Told him to take a hike or have the whole world know that he's a lousy lover."

Oliver snorts. "Seriously? He has a sex tape? How bad exactly is it?"

She pats his cheek playfully. "Don't worry, yours is better."

He sobers at that, confirming her suspicion that he didn't know about it. "Mine? I don't have a sex tape, Felicity," he tells her with a shake of his head. "Do I?"

"Yeah, you do."

"I don't believe that."

"I saw it with my own eyes, Oliver."

He sucks in a breath. "I… uh… I didn't… wait, you _watched_ it?"

"Uhh, can I plead the fifth?" she asks with a sly grin.

"No, you can't. Where did you even find it?"

"If it's online I can find it," she deadpans. "When you first made me that job offer I looked you up to see what I was getting myself into," she says with a shrug. "That's when I found the video."

"And you watched it," he prompts.

"Maybe."

"I'll take that as a yes," he chuckles and shakes his head. "For the record, I didn't do it willingly."

She snorts. "You seemed very willing."

"You're enjoying this way too much," he grumbles. "I meant shooting the video."

"I know, Oliver. By the way, I'm really glad you don't wear your hair that long anymore," she says, combing her free hand through his short-cropped hair.

"Don't remind me," he chuckles, leaning into her touch. "Do you know who shot the video?"

"Mhh, I do. I deleted every trace of it."

"And you're not gonna tell me who it was?" he presses.

"Doesn't really matter, does it? She was sitting on that video for years without doing anything. She could've made a fortune with it, but she didn't even try. No harm, no foul, right?"

"Guess so," he mutters in response. "Still can't believe you watched me have sex with another woman."

She smirks at him and shrugs her shoulders. "It's not like I watched the whole thing. As soon as I realized that that was actually you and what was happening I turned it off and deleted it. For the record, you were still mostly clothed."

"Mostly, huh?"

She nods and licks her lips, letting her fingers creep under his shirt, wandering slowly over his abs up to his chest. "Just your shirt was off. And let's face it, I've already seen you wear less than that in the past year."

"Very true, Miss Smoak," he agrees and leans closer, his lips covering hers once more in a slow and languid kiss that completely takes her breath away.

"I do think I remember you offering to share your bed with me tonight," he says when they break apart. "Does that offer still stand, because I'd really like to carry you upstairs to my room right about now."

Her brain short-circuits at that, providing her with flashes of skin on skin, lips on lips, and tongue on tongue. She swallows hard, trying to calm her erratic pulse, with little success.

Suddenly it's all going too fast, her brain decides. Only a few hours ago they were fighting. Hell, they only decided to be together a good 24 hours ago.

She wants him. In every single way possible.

But this… is just too fast.

Oh god, she's going crazy. Here she is with a man she's in love with, a man who she's dating, a man she's had a crush on for a good year now, a man who _wants_ her, and yet she's hesitant to sleep with him. What's wrong with her? He's probably going to think that she's having second thoughts about their relationship and…

"Hey," he nudges his nose softly into hers, pulling her back into the here and now. There's worry swirling in his electric blue eyes. Worry and confusion, mixed with understanding and love. So, so much love.

"I think we both need some sleep," he whispers, his breath ghosting over her lips.

She nods in agreement, not trusting her voice to hold up.

Before she can even move a muscle, he's already on his feet, one arm around her back, the other under her knees. She wants to protest and tell him that she can walk on her own, but his soft lips on her forehead stop her. So instead, she burrows her head in his chest, inhaling his scent and marveling at the fact that this is their life now.

Soon she's carefully deposited on a bed, his bed to be precise. He scoots in behind her, wrapping his arms around her, pulling her into his body and his comforting warmth. The content hum close to her ear telling her that they're okay, that he understands. That he's there.

 **⁂** **⁂** **⁂**


	9. Chapter 9

**⁂** **⁂** **⁂**

Two weeks have passed since that first date that not only marked the beginning of their relationship, but also their first fight as a couple.

These past two weeks might be the best of her life so far, Felicity muses absentmindedly as she stretches out on the couch, burying her toes under Oliver's thighs.

He tears his eyes away from the football game on the TV and fixes her with a mock glare that packs no heat at all, unlike the fingers of his left hand as they automatically drift down to the exposed skin of her ankle. She bites back a moan. God she loves the feeling of his fingertips running over her skin.

The past two weeks have been filled to the brim with countless of these innocent little touches where his fingers barely graze over her skin leaving a trail of blazing heat in their wake. She knows what he's doing. And she's pretty sure that he knows that she knows and he just doesn't care. He just keeps on doing it.

He's methodically driving her crazy.

She swallows down the wave of need that washes over her body and concentrates on the stack of letters in her lap. A busy week at QC and evenings filled with dates with Oliver had left her with virtually no time to catch up on her private mail.

She rips open the next envelope and promptly halts her movements when she sees the familiar letterhead of her insurance company staring back at her. With furrowed brows she quickly reads the letter, unable to contain the little "oh" when her eyes reach the end.

"Everything okay?" Oliver asks softly, his fingers tightening ever so slightly on her ankle.

She nods slowly, clearing her throat and taking a deep breath. "Uh, yeah. I… uh…" she stammers, waving the letter in front of her. "This is from my insurance. Their investigators finally finished their investigation into the explosion and the release of the damages payments was granted. They want to meet with me as soon as possible to discuss my payment."

"Okay," he says slowly, his eyes searching her face. "So?"

"So, then I'll have the capital I need to look for a new place."

"Why would you want a new place?" he asks, and he sounds so genuinely confused that she wants to lean in and kiss him.

She hadn't expected her insurance company to act so quickly if she's completely honest. And she'd been okay with that, if only because she was dreading to have this exact conversation with Oliver.

"Because," she sighs, "living here was only ever meant to be temporary until I found a permanent solution with my insurance money."

He furrows his brows in irritation. "Yeah, but that was before we were together. I thought it was going great between us. So what's there to even think about?"

"Don't you think we're moving a bit fast? We're doing everything kinda backwards," Felicity points out carefully, scooting closer to wrap her hand around his.

"So?"

"So I don't wanna mess this up by skipping steps."

Oliver shakes his head furiously. "That's not how love works. There's no recipe or manual that needs to be followed step by step."

She swallows hard against the swell of emotions threatening to overtake her. He said love. While their relationship had definitely progressed in the past couple of weeks they'd still not said those three precious words to each other, making him mentioning it so casually a bit of a shock.

"I get that," she argues, trying to calm him down. "But I still feel like we're getting ahead of ourselves here."

He scoffs and looks at her with disbelieving eyes. "What, so you wanna go on more dates with me before you can decide if you want to keep living with me?"

And yeah, he sounds like she just punched him in the gut. "Oliver," she says softly, squeezing his fingers. "I like living with you and I'm so unbelievably grateful that you took me in without a second thought. But now, as your girlfriend, and talking about living here as a permanent solution, this seems rushed."

He huffs humorlessly and pushes up and away from the couch, pacing in front of the flickering TV. "I thought you were happy here."

"I am. Don't doubt that for a second," she urges him. "But you can't disregard how we got here. My life literally went up in flames and you were there as my best friend to catch me. I moved in here because we were friends and you offered me a safe haven when I needed one, and not because we were a couple that consciously decided to take that step in our relationship. This was meant to be temporary while I waited for the insurance money to come through and until I found a new place."

"I've always wanted you here. I _want_ you here," he roars as he comes to a stop in front of her. "I've been in love with you for months now and all I want is to have you close to me. All day, every day. Not just temporarily." He looks down at her, a mask of bitterness taking over his features. "But apparently you don't share that sentiment," he accuses her not so subtly and stalks off into the kitchen.

Felicity takes a steadying breath, trying to control her rapid heartbeat and the tears that are threatening to spill from her eyes. The logical part of her understands that he's lashing out because she caught him off guard and maybe because she made him feel insecure about their relationship. But the emotional part of her is ready to go after him and kick and scream until it gets through his thick skull that there is no part of her that doesn't love him, too.

It hurts her to even entertain the mere thought that he doesn't think that she loves him. Because she does, damn it! She's never loved anyone as much as she loves him. He _needs_ to know that.

With legs that feel as heavy as lead, she gets up from the couch and back tracks his step to the kitchen, wiping a shaky hand over her cheek where a stray tear managed to escape.

He's leaning against the counter, staring off into nothingness with an unopened beer bottle in his hand.

She approaches him quietly until only a foot of charged air separates them. "I'm scared," she admits with a shaky tremor in her voice, staring at the lowest button of his henley. "I'm scared of my feelings for you and of messing up. I feel like my whole life revolves around you. Even before all of this," she waves awkwardly between them. From the corner of her eyes she can see him dipping his head to look at her. "We spend so much time together. We work on the same floor, we have the same friends, and we spend virtually all of our free time together. Everything in our lives is completely… interwoven. And that was all before I moved in here and we became a couple. Now," she swallows heavily, trying to keep her tears at bay. "Now, every day begins and ends with you."

"You make it sound like that's a bad thing."

"No… Yes… I don't…" she trails off and shakes her head, trying to sort through her thoughts. "I'm scared to lose it all. I'm scared that if we don't work out I'll not only lose you as my boyfriend and my best friend, but also that it'd make my friends take sides and make it awkward at work."

As soon as she finishes she feels his fingers lifting her chin up so that she's forced to look at him. His eyes are full of sadness and lingering questions. "Why are you getting ahead of yourself? Why can't you just live in the here and now and enjoy the time that we have together?" There's a hint of exasperation mixed into his desperate tone.

"Because that's who I am and how my brain works. I always think ten steps ahead so that I can have contingency plans ready for every possible scenario. I saw my mom lose herself in grief and despair after my dad left us and I swore that I would never be that girl. The one that completely depends on a guy and that is unable to function without him." She barely makes it through her explanation without her voice breaking.

His hands cup her face instantly, bringing her close to him as he leans down and presses his lips to hers in a desperate kiss. He barely gives her a second to catch her breath before he swoops down again, kissing her like it's the last time and he's trying to memorize everything about that feeling. Oh god, please don't let this be the last time.

Her fingers find purchase in his shirt, gripping the fabric so hard her knuckles turn white. She gives as good as she gets when his tongue flutters over hers, engaging her in a bittersweet duel until they finally have to break apart to take a much needed breath.

She looks up at him with wide eyes, chest heaving heavily in sync with his. His hands are still framing her face, thumbs catching the stray tears on her cheeks, and the rest of his fingers pressing into her hair.

"You're not dependent, Felicity," he breathes softly. "You're where you are in your professional life because you worked hard for it and because you deserve it. I have no illusions about where else in the world you could be with your skills and knowledge. You have your own life and your own friends and I have no doubt that even my friends would gladly drop me and follow you to the end of the world," he huffs out sardonically, before sobering. "You're strong and independent, and that's only two of the reasons why I love you so much."

This time it's not his hot lips on hers that take her breath away but the incredible amount of honesty and love in his eyes. She lifts on her toes and kisses him sweetly. "I love you, too, Oliver," she whispers against his lips.

He drops his hands from her head and bands his arms around her waist, hauling her into his body, lifting her off the ground.

She buries her nose in his neck, breathing in his unique scent, just enjoying a moment where all of her fears and doubts wash away.

When she opens her eyes again she finds herself being lowered onto the couch, with Oliver hovering over her. When did that happen?

"I wish I could promise you that we'll never break up or that I'll never do anything stupid that makes you want to leave," he whispers softly. "But I can promise to always fight for us. Fight to make us work. Fight to be worthy of your love. Just please, _please_ , don't give up on us before we really get started, because your brilliant brain tells you that there might be bumps in the road a few years from now."

She closes the distance between them and presses her lips against his, pouring everything into the kiss. Every ounce of love and doubt and fear and hope.

And even with everything out on the table, she needs more. She needs all of him. "Take me to bed, Oliver," she whispers against his lips.

 

 **⁂** **⁂** **⁂** **ARROW** **⁂** **⁂** **⁂**

 

It's hours and several rounds of mind-blowing sex later, when he lies in his bed with Felicity's naked body snuggled into his side that he finally has a clear mind to think about everything that was said tonight.

He's glad that Felicity had shared her fear with him, helping him understand where her head was at. He'd known all along that at some point their living situation would come up, but after all this time of living together he hadn't expected her to still think about moving out and living separately again. If it were up to him he'd just keep on living like this with Felicity right by his side. But, alas, it's not just up to him.

Maybe he can just keep her happy and sated in his bed for as long as possible and that will let her forget about moving out. Unlikely, but it's still worth a try.

He runs his index finger along the open expanse of her skin from her hip to her thigh and back up again. In response she murmurs something into his chest that he can't quite make out. He does it again, and this time she grumbles, "Forget about it, mister."

He smiles widely, his chest shaking with quiet laughter. "I don't think so." With that his hand slides over her ass, massaging it lightly.

She moans softly and when she speaks again the words come out a little stilted. "I know what you're doing."

"Mhhh," he hums. "Trying to wake you up and have my wicked way with you again," he suggests innocently, his hand tightening around her bottom.

Her fingers dig into his chest in response. "No," she breathes out. "You think if you keep sexing me up that we won't go back to talking about our living situation."

His hand stills abruptly and he gapes down at the mess of blonde locks. How the hell does she-

"I know you, Oliver," she huffs and pushes herself up onto her elbows. "Hi," she whispers with a grin now that they can see each other face to face, and leans forward to kiss him thoroughly.

He wastes no time and deepens the kiss, his tongue running over her bottom lip, but all too soon she breaks away from him.

"It's not going to work. We'll have to talk about it again eventually," she reasons and scoots a few inches away from him, positioning herself so that they're facing each other.

He sighs in defeat. "Fine, we'll talk. But afterwards I'm sexing you up again," he says with a wink.

She laughs heartily and grabs one of his hands, putting it on the mattress between them, her thumb idly stroking over his knuckles.

"I was thinking about buying a house out in the suburbs. I loved living out there and it was nice to get out of the city after spending the entire day holed up in the office," she tells him, a small smile curling up her lips. "Not far from where I lived is this beautiful two story Cape Cod style house that I always jogged past in the morning. It's been on the market for almost a year and I've talked to the owners a few times and by now they're pretty open when it comes to negotiating the price because they wanna move to New York to be with their kids and grandkids as soon as possible."

It's hard not to be infected by her obvious enthusiasm and downright giddiness. Her eyes are shining with glee and he can't help but mirror her bright smile.

"I mean this house is just amazing, Oliver. It would need some serious TLC before I could even think about living there, but it has so much potential and it just reminds me so much of my time in Boston when we'd just get on a bus and drive out to the Cape on the weekends," she gushes.

"You've really thought about this," he realizes. "You don't like living in the city?"

She shrugs lightly. "It's convenient and I wouldn't mind living here for another couple of years, but in the long run I wanna get out of here. This is not exactly a place where I'd wanna raise a family, you know?" She winces and screws her eyes shut for a second. "Sorry, I really don't wanna push another big topic on you tonight."

Yeah, wow, raising a family. That's a thought he's never really entertained until now. Mostly because he's been so caught up with work, never really stopping long enough to consider that particular option. Well that and the whole lack of a serious girlfriend he could actually picture a future with.

Until now.

Now, after only being with Felicity for two weeks, he can see having a family in his future. He wonders if they'd have her blonde hair, if they'd also need glasses, if they'd be as smart as Felicity, or if they'd like to play pranks on everybody like he had when he was younger.

"Oliver?" Her soft voice and the stroke of her fingers bring him back to the present.

He clears his throat and searches her eyes. "No, I… it's fine. It's all connected in a way, isn't it?"

"I guess," she answers cautiously.

"How about we make an appointment with the owners of that house once your insurance payment clears and you can get a better feeling of the situation? I'd really like to see what has you gushing like this," he says with a playful smile. "And no matter what comes of that you know that you're always welcome to stay here with me."

"Mhh, that sounds like a plan."

"And just for the record, you can ask me anything you want about any plans I have for my future. As long as you want to be part of it I have absolutely no doubt that it will be utterly perfect."

He silences her shocked gasp by sealing his lips over hers again.

 

 **⁂** **⁂** **⁂**

 

"Remind me again why we're doing this," Felicity asks him, her eyes flitting from his to where their friends are sitting around the big dinner table in his loft.

Another week had passed and they'd decided that it was time to tell their friends about their new relationship status, and rather than doing it somewhere public they'd agreed to just have them come over for a quiet night in.

Quiet is a relative term, though, especially when you put Thea and Tommy in the same room, but still, this is much better than having everybody at a restaurant somewhere that has prying eyes in every nook and corner.

"Because we wanted to tell them about us in a controlled environment where we don't have to worry about paparazzi and reporters lurking around," he reminds her, barely resisting the urge to dip his head down and reassure her with a kiss. Or maybe that would just be the proverbial band-aid to be ripped off? Kiss her and get their announcement over with. Easy as that.

"I still think we could've just sent them a group text and be done with it instead of making this into a thing," she laments but follows him back to the table, carrying plates and forks for the cake that he has in his hands.

"It'll be fine, Felicity."

Her responding grumble gets drowned out by the whooping and hollering from their friends when they spot their dessert.

"About time, man," Tommy complains. "I was starting to get hungry again."

"Forget about the cake, Merlyn, I for one wanna know what we're doing here tonight," Thea prompts, looking expectantly from Oliver to Felicity and back.

They quickly put down the dessert and reclaim their seats, hands automatically gravitating towards each other under the table. He clears his throat and looks over to his girlfriend who gives him an encouraging nod. "Well, actually, we have something to tell you."

"Oh my god, Felicity's pregnant," Thea exclaims excitedly, jumping up and down in her seat.

The woman in question just rolls her eyes and shakes her head. "I've been drinking wine all night, Thea."

His sister's face falls at that. "Oh, right."

"So as we were trying to tell you we're-" He tries again and promptly gets cut off by Tommy.

"You're engaged!"

"No, that's not…" Oliver groans in response. "We're a couple."

Felicity's fingers squeeze his in silent support as they wait for the table to erupt. But nothing happens.

"You know, as in we're together. Boyfriend, girlfriend, that sorta thing," he clarifies slowly, thinking that maybe he hadn't been clear enough.

Still nothing.

He turns his head towards Felicity who immediately locks her eyes with his, shrugging lightly in confusion.

"And that's your big news?" Caitlin questions from the end of the table.

"Yeah," Felicity chimes in. "I mean you've all been dropping hints left and right about us for the past year or so. We honestly thought you'd be a little more excited."

"We were excited three weeks ago when you started dating and Thea got a nice payout from the betting pool, but now this is hardly groundbreaking news anymore," Laurel says with a shrug. "Thanks for not waiting until Christmas by the way," she adds, her voice laced with sarcasm.

"Wait, so you all knew?" Felicity questions disbelievingly.

It's Thea's turn to shrug. "After the whole gala thing and then your awful date, I figured not hearing from either one of you could only mean one thing. Plus, Ollie kinda told me. And well, I walked in on you making out on the couch two weeks ago without you noticing."

From the corner of his eyes Oliver can see his girlfriend's mouth drop open and a telltale blush settle on her cheeks.

"But we are beyond happy that you finally got your heads out of your asses, of course," Tommy throws in for good measure and Oliver's only response is a scoff and a shake of his head. Leave it to his best friend to make a comment like that.

Well, this was pretty anticlimactic, Oliver thinks wryly, looking at their friends' faces.

When they usher everybody to the elevator an hour later, Tommy pulls him aside. "I think now is a good time to remind you that I'll still kick your ass if you ever hurt her, man," he warns Oliver, tightening his grip on his best friend's shoulder for a second before offering his hand. "But I really am glad you guys figured this out. You both deserve to be happy and I'm glad you find that happiness in each other."

Oliver grips his friend's hand for a second and pulls him into a quick hug. "Thanks, Tommy."

 

 **⁂** **⁂** **⁂**

 

"So that went well," Felicity comments, falling backwards onto his mattress, already dressed in only one of his shirts.

He chuckles while shrugging out of his shirt and pants. "I can't believe they all knew that we started dating. Were we really that obvious?"

"Apparently, we were. So much for being sneaky about it. But either way I'm glad that it's officially out there now."

"Very true," he agrees as he lies down next to her, wrapping the covers around them while she snuggles into his bare chest. "I called a friend of mine yesterday who's an interior architect. I told him about the house and what you have in mind for it and he'd love to come with us the next time we look at it to help you get a rough idea of how much remodeling would cost."

She props her chin on his chest and gazes up at him. "Really?"

"Yeah, I mean I don't wanna overstep. It'll be your house and your project, but Dig's really good at what he does and I think it would be great for you to get a sense of what could be possible and what not."

She drops her head and places a quick kiss right over his heart before finding his gaze again. "I've been thinking a lot about what we talked about last week. About how my fear of being too dependent had me too worried to look freely into the future."

"And?" he prompts with a hopeful smile.

"And I think I'm going to take your advice and try to live more in the here and now and enjoy what we have right now." She bites her bottom lip nervously before she continues, "How would you like that house and the remodeling to be _our_ project?"

His smile falls from his lips in surprise. "Are you serious?"

"Yes," she beams up at him. "Over the past week I realized that you're my present and hopefully my happy future. I love you, Oliver, and there's no one else in this world I trust more than you. So I'm trusting you with my heart for as long as you're willing to put up with all my hopefully completely unfounded fears and insecurities."

He studies her face for a few long seconds, taking in the hope and love shining from her eyes, infectious as always, and this time without any trace of doubt. This is everything he's been dreaming of for the past few weeks and especially the last one. He'd been racking his brain trying to figure out how he could show and convince her that he was the one who would prove all of her fears and doubts wrong.

Somehow this remarkable woman had found her own way to that conclusion.

"How does forever sound?"

 **⁂** **⁂** **⁂**


	10. Chapter 10

**⁂** **⁂** **⁂**

**1 year later**

Oliver opens the door of the restaurant, one hand lying loosely over the small of Felicity's back, gently ushering her inside.

They're late.

It's barely a quarter past seven, so technically they're just _a little_ late. But still, while he couldn't care less, Felicity _hates_ being late. Which is kind of funny because, in his book, she's usually the reason why they're late.

Don't get him wrong, she's always getting ready on time, so that's not a problem. The reason they always tend to be late is that she makes him lose all remnants of self-control. To a point where she sometimes insists on getting ready in the locked bathroom, so that he can't watch her. She claims that he always distracts her and "sexes her up with his stupid sexy glances" and then goes on to undo all of her hard work.

So basically, it's all about _her_ inability not to be turned on by _him_ being turned on by her...

Despite all of those prior experiences, she had gotten ready right in the middle of their suite in Gotham's Grand Hotel tonight. He'd been fine while she'd been in the shower, promising himself to stay in control and be on time for once for their meeting with Bruce Wayne. And then she'd come back into the bedroom in nothing but a set of matching dark green lace underwear and bra and all his good intentions had flown right out the window and he'd thrown her on the bed before she even had a chance to complain (which she didn't).

Like he said: it's all her fault.

The hostess guides them towards their table where Bruce is already waiting with an annoyed scowl on his face.

As they approach, he stands up, plastering on a more or less pleasant smile. He takes Felicity's hand and presses a quick kiss to it. "Felicity, always a pleasure to see you."

"Good to see you, too, Bruce," she replies smoothly, extricating her hands from his quickly with a tight smile.

That's my girl, Oliver thinks a bit too smugly.

He extends his own hand and squeezes a little more tightly than strictly necessary, reveling in the other man's wince, before they get seated.

Thanks to Felicity's bubbly personality the evening progresses smoothly, filled with small talk and only a few pointed barbs exchanged between the two billionaires.

After the entrees are cleared from the table, Bruce leans back in his chair. "There's something different about you, Felicity," he thinks out loud, his eyes resting on the woman in question. "Just over two years ago you came all the way out to Gotham to meet me and you were ready to leave Queen Consolidated, unsure about your future with the company, and now here you are, thriving in your new position and QC is stronger than ever."

Felicity blushes a little and looks over to her boyfriend, exchanging a loving gaze before bringing her eyes back to Bruce. "That's very true. Two years ago, I made all the right decisions."

Oliver feels his chest tighten and a lump forming in his throat. It doesn't matter how much time they spend together, how many times they say they love each other or how many times they make love, even after a beautiful year with Felicity he still has that feeling of wonder and astonishment inside of him every time his brain reminds him that this woman is his girlfriend.

Sometimes the past two years feel too good to be true. He's living a life that even surpasses his wildest dreams. He has everything he could ever hope for. But most importantly he has Felicity. The love of his life. His future.

Knowing that she's right there with him on the same page, happy and without any shred of regret, makes his heart soar with happiness and complete and utter contentment.

"Maybe," Bruce concedes, shooting Oliver a challenging look. "But we all know that QC has its limits and will only get you so far. Wayne Enterprises on the other hand has so much more to offer you and your young and promising career."

Is he fucking joking?

"Are you really trying to lure Felicity away from my company while I'm sitting right across from you?" Oliver all but growls, unable to contain his angry reaction

"Would you like it better if I did it behind your back?" Bruce throws back, raising his eyebrows.

_What I'd like better is to punch you in the-_

Felicity's warm hand squeezing his thigh in warning interrupts his thoughts and immediately cuts through his anger. He turns his head and locks his eyes on hers. Once more he's reminded how much he loves that they can have entire conversation with just these little touches and looks, without ever opening their mouths. Comes in very handy in situations like this one.

Right now she's telling him to calm down, take a step back and let her handle it. So he does.

"Bruce," she addresses the other man, when she finally averts her eyes from Oliver's. Her voice takes on that disapproving tone of a teacher scolding a student and Oliver leans back and enjoys Bruce getting his arrogant ass handed to him. "As always I'm incredibly flattered by your continued personal interest in my professional capabilities, but I can assure you that I'm very happy at QC and have absolutely no intentions of leaving the company or Starling City!"

God, he's so in love with this woman.

Bruce's arrogant grin evaporates when her words hit him, leaving a skeptical look on his face. He regards them silently for a few long seconds, his eyes darting back and forth between them, until there's a miniscule shift in his features. It almost looks like he finally accepts her resolution and decides to move on.

"I see," he finally says. "In that case we can start to discuss the shared project then."

Oliver covers his girlfriend's hand that is still on his thigh with his larger one and squeezes lightly, hoping to convey his pride and undying love for her. Judging by the loving smile she shoots him, he succeeds.

 

 **⁂** **⁂** **⁂** **ARROW** **⁂** **⁂** **⁂**

 

Oliver pulling into their driveway and laying his warm hand over hers is what rouses her from her catnap in the car. It's barely 6pm, but the cross-country flight and a night of a whole lot of birthday sex have taken its toll on her.

After wrapping up their business deal with Wayne Enterprises, they'd stayed another day in Gotham to celebrate her birthday in the city where their story had begun two years ago, rather than spending the whole day traveling.

As always, Oliver had absolutely pampered her. After a lazy morning and breakfast in bed they'd driven out of the city to a spa resort where they'd spent the rest of the day getting massaged, steamed and coiffed before they'd enjoyed a romantic candle light dinner. It had been a perfect day.

Then again, any day that starts with her being in Oliver's arms constitutes as a perfect day in her book.

Her car door opens and Oliver reaches for her hand to guide her from the car to the front door of their new home, the lights of their holiday decorations lighting their way through the darkening night.

They'd only moved in two weeks ago, after having a construction crew renovate the house for almost 8 months after they'd bought it. They'd given the whole house a long overdue modernization, while keeping the integrity of the house thanks to a brilliant architect and interior designer team.

They'd converted one part of the basement that was previously used as a storage space into a gym and the other into a comfy home theater where she hopes to spend many lazy weekends sharing her favorite shows and movies with Oliver.

On the first floor, right off the grand staircase in the foyer, they'd broken down some walls to create a big, open space kitchen-dining-living area. Their two studies are right next to each other, but designed completely differently, catering to their individual needs. Suffice to say that Felicity's has a lot more outlets to power all her babies.

The top floor is home to their vast master bedroom with a lavish on-suite bathroom and a very generous walk-in closet that Thea has pledged to fill to the brim with new clothes. Felicity isn't about to complain.

The two guest rooms, plus one more downstairs are all still filled with unopened boxes and some furniture that they haven't figured out what to do with.

It's not like they'll ever need three guest rooms, but after having a very emotional talk about it, they'd both agreed that someday those rooms would be filled with the laughter of their children.

Just thinking about one day having a little someone that's half her and half Oliver running around their new home creates the feeling of a million butterflies buzzing around her stomach.

One day!

For now, she's more than happy to enjoy her time with Oliver.

The man in question leads her through the dark foyer, a small smile playing on his lips. Everything is dark and she briefly wonders why he's not turning on the lights when the smell of food hits her. Why does the house they haven't been in for four days smell like freshly cooked food?

Before she can turn around and ask her boyfriend what's going on, he's already led her through the kitchen door where she's greeted by a sea of brightly burning sparklers. The flickering lights dip the room into a warm glow, illuminating the giddy faces of her friends who all start singing Happy Birthday.

Her jaw drops in shock and she stands there completely motionless while the situation finally starts to make sense in her head. Oliver steps up behind her, his arms snaking around her body and pulling her back and flush against his chest.

Hearing him softly whisper-sing into her ear is the final straw that makes tears of joy stream down her cheeks.

When they finish the song, he presses a lingering kiss to her cheek. "Happy birthday, baby," he whispers.

She tugs a little at his arms, giving her enough space to whirl around in his embrace, pressing her lips to his in a passionate kiss. "You did all this?" she asks breathlessly when whooping cheers from their friends break them apart.

He beams down at her. "Yeah, I felt bad that I had to whisk you away for the negotiations in Gotham and then keeping you all to myself yesterday instead of celebrating with everybody at home. So I coordinated with Thea to set everything up."

She huffs and drops her voice to a whisper that only he can hear. "I wouldn't change yesterday for anything, not even our friends. You made my birthday perfect," she assures him. "But of course I still appreciate that you did all this. I love you so much."

After sharing another kiss she quickly makes the rounds, being showered with hugs and congratulations from her friends.

After that the evening is a blur of good food, wine and lots of laughter, and together with the beautiful day she had with Oliver yesterday, she can confidently say that this is the best birthday she's ever had. And it's all thanks to this amazing, thoughtful and caring man by her side.

Life can't get better than it is right now.

 

 **⁂** **⁂** **⁂**

 

It's hours later, a little past midnight when Thea and Roy finally leave after helping with some of the clean-up.

Oliver is moving around the kitchen, putting the last few dishes in the dishwasher and so she seizes the moment and sneaks up behind him when his back is turned to her. Her arms sneak around to his stomach and she can feel his muscles tighten and relax beneath her fingers.

He leans back into her embrace and she steps on her tiptoes and presses a kiss to the back of his neck, reveling in the all too familiar taste of his skin on her lips.

"Thank you again for tonight, Oliver," she hums contently as close to his ear as she can reach. "You really didn't have to do all this after yesterday. You already put so much thought and effort into our day together."

He turns around, pulling her into his body. "I know, but I wanted to. And you deserve everything and more," he tells her sweetly, emphasizing his point with a languid kiss. "I love you."

"Love you more," she whispers against his lips.

"Not possible."

His sap level is reaching new highs tonight and it makes her love him even more.

They're staying in their embrace for countless more seconds before Oliver's posture stiffens a little. "I… uh… I haven't given you your gift yet," he mumbles into her hair.

She pulls back a little, searching his eyes to try and find the source of the sudden shifts in moods, but comes up empty. "You don't have to give me a gift, honey. You've already done more than I could've ever wished for," she assures him.

"Just wait for me in the living room? I'll be back in a sec," he tells her and dashes out of the kitchen.

Uh, okay? Frowning in confusion she makes her way over to the living area where the flames in the fireplace are crackling softly.

What is he doing? Why is he acting so strange? And what gift could he possibly have gotten her? She really doesn't like mysteries.

She's only alone for a few seconds before he comes back into the room, taking a deep steadying breath before approaching her slowly with… nothing in his hands?

He's nervous as hell, the tension is practically rolling off of him in waves. His fingers are doing that nervous tick, and slowly it starts to dawn on her what is quite possibly about to happen. But she can't let herself think of that because she's not sure if she can handle the disappointment if **_it_** doesn't actually happen in the next few minutes.

He guides them to the couch, sitting down right next to her and taking her hands into his.

He exhales a deep breath and finds her eyes, and she witnesses the most amazing thing: his eyes go from nervous and hesitant to certain and confident in a split second.

And yeah, holy shit, this is actually happening.

"I love you, Felicity," he says, voice rock solid and sure.

"I love you, too," she can't stop herself from saying, earning herself a wide smile. But the soft glint in his eyes tells her to let him say the rest.

"If you had asked me three years ago where I was going with my life I wouldn't have been able to answer. I didn't have a plan that went beyond making QC more successful. I never wanted to plan my future and restrict myself with it." He shakes his head a little, accompanied with a little huff. "And then I met you and _everything_ changed."

Felicity can't take her eyes off of him, even afraid to blink and miss a split second of looking at his beautiful face that is so full of love.

"They say everything happens for a reason, and I can't help but agree whole-heartedly with that. Meeting you on a random plane to Gotham right before you were about to leave my company, convincing you to reconsider, becoming friends, even that damn fire at your house, all of those moments have brought us here. They've brought us together.

"I know we've only been together for a year, but we've already seen our fair share of highs and lows, and everything in between. And out of every disagreement we've had we've always come out stronger than before. Even more in love than before, if that's even possible."

She nods in agreement, pressing her lips together in a vain attempt of keeping her emotions at bay.

"Felicity, you're my guiding light when I find myself in a dark moment, always there for me when I lose my way. You and me," he tugs a little at her hands that are probably crushing his in an absolute death grip, "we belong together. I'm a better man because of you. A better son, a better brother, a better business man, hopefully a better boyfriend than I used to be," he chuckles lightly. "And that's all because of you. Because I want to be the best possible version of myself when I'm with you."

He swallows hard and his eyes are starting to shine.

"I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Start a family, get a dog, go home with you every night, do everything I never even dared to dream of. But most of all, I want to spend the rest of my life loving you and being loved by you."

He slides off the couch, one of his hands diving into his pants pockets and producing a gorgeous ring that he holds between trembling fingers as he gets down on one knee in front of her.

Her right hand flies up to cover her mouth, unable to contain the disbelieving, happy sob that escapes.

He looks straight at her when he finds his voice. "Felicity Smoak, will you make me the happiest man on the face of the earth? Will you marry me?"

"Yes," she breathes out before her brain even registers what her mouth is doing. But for once her lack of brain-to-mouth filter doesn't matter, because there is no other answer. There's no other choice.

If possible, Oliver's face lights up even more with unfiltered happiness and love. "Yes?" he asks to make sure.

She grins wildly at him, nodding her head in renewed confirmation. "Yes!"

With still trembling fingers he slides the ring in place on her left hand, admiring the sight before standing up and pulling her with him into a standing position.

They meet halfway for a searing kiss that's unlike anything they've ever shared before.

Holy shit, her brain manages to think, if their engagement kiss is this amazing she can't wait to find out what engagement sex is going to be like.

"I love you so much," she breathes against his lips, throwing him a cheeky grin, "Future Mr. Smoak."

He growls a little but there's also a playful glint in his eyes. "And I love you, Future Mrs. Queen."

She hums contently as he scoops her up from the floor and into his arms. "I like the sound of that."

Best birthday, indeed.

 **⁂** **⁂** **⁂** **The End** **⁂** **⁂** **⁂**


End file.
